


Not Only a Granger

by ferporcel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-01
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2017-11-02 21:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 240,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferporcel/pseuds/ferporcel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven years after the end of the war, Hermione finds herself in a delicate situation when her only son leaves for Hogwarts and threatens her most guarded secret: that he’s not only a Granger, but also a Snape!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wizarding Letter

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Magyar available: [NEM CSAK GRANGER](https://archiveofourown.org/works/381467) by [Eskies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eskies/pseuds/Eskies)
  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [Mais Que Um Granger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/383101) by [ferporcel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferporcel/pseuds/ferporcel)
  * Translation into Deutsch available: [Nicht nur ein Granger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/488002) by [AleaThoron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AleaThoron/pseuds/AleaThoron)



> I hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I’m enjoying writing it! It’s my first attempt in writing and I’d love some feedback. I also would like to warn you that English is not my first language, but thanks to my awesome beta-readers you won’t have to suffer too much.
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling's.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Wizarding letter arrives and changes the status quo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **BETA-READERS FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you very much!

Hermione Granger was seated at the table appreciating breakfast on a Sunday morning when an owl came through the left window of her apartment. Even after living in the Muggle world for more than eleven years, she was still in contact with some of her friends from the Wizarding world. But this wasn’t an owl she recognized; not from Harry and Ginny, nor from Ron or any other Weasley…

She took the letter from the bird and offered it a piece of toast. The owl accepted the treat and left through the same window it had arrived from. Hermione looked to the parchment in her hands and saw the symbol on the sealing wax. It was a letter from Hogwarts.

She eyed letter for several minutes, hypnotized by it. _A letter from Hogwarts… Who is sending letters from Hogwarts? I was very careful to avoid contact with anyone from there since… It’s an official letter, Hermione!_ she admonished mentally.

Gathering her courage, she turned the letter over in her hands, read the name on it, and closed her eyes. She had been expecting this day, but deep inside she had held some hope that it would never come. He had displayed magical abilities since he was one year old and she still had hoped against all logical thoughts that this day wouldn’t come. Even when she knew her hopes were unfounded and illogical, she had still hoped this letter would never arrive.

She placed the dreaded letter on the table and sipped some tea from her cup. Opening her eyes, the letter was still there. She stared at the yellowish parchment resting in front of her, trying to think. It was a lost battle, she knew. She had thought about it since he was born and never got an answer that would solve this problem. She sighed, lifting her eyes from the letter and met deep black ones staring at her.

“Good morning, mum,” her son saluted and took the chair in front of her. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing,” she answered with a light shake of head, returning her attention to the eggs on her plate. “Why would there be?”

“You’ve been staring at that wizarding letter since I came to the room. Took at least a minute for you to notice my presence,” he said with a smirk. “Is it from Uncle Harry or Uncle Ron?”

 _Why does he have to smirk like that?_ she thought and sighed again. _He is a remarkable reminder of his father when he smirks…or grimaces, or…_ she was brought back from her mind ramble by her son’s voice.

“Mum! Stop staring at me!” he admonished with his strong voice and a grimace. “Are you feeling all right? You seem a little…lost this morning. Is it the wizarding letter?” he asked, and before his mother could predict his actions, he took the letter from the table. She tried to take it from him but it was too late, he had already grabbed it.

He eyed the letter but couldn’t find the sender’s name or recognize the seal symbol, so in an instinctive move he turned the letter over, his eyes widening at the same time his mother brought her hands to her face.

**Mr. Nathan Granger  
Wingfield Court, E14 2DR  
Virginia Quay  
London**

“Mum, it’s for me! Who would send me a wizarding letter? It’s not form Uncle Harry or Uncle Ron and I don’t know any other wizard,” he said still staring at the parchment in his hands. He flipped the letter and broke the seal, hearing another sigh from his mother. Unfolding the papers he read.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmistress Minerva McGonagall  
Member of the Wizengamot**

**Dear Mr. Granger,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment.**

**Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Filius Flitwick  
Deputy Headmaster**

Hermione lowered her hands from her face when she heard him unfolding the letter. She knew exactly what words were written there. She observed how his expression changed from the frown he put in his face when he was unfolding the parchment, to one of surprise when he read that it was from Hogwarts, and finally to a wide smile when he finished the last line and looked back at his mother.

“I’m a wizard!” he declared, with self satisfaction in his voice.

She couldn’t avoid the surge of pride and happiness rising inside her. His wide grin was contagious and she found herself smiling back at him, ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks. She was crying from despair and loss when he was breaking the letter seal, but now… she couldn’t figure out her feelings. _Am I happy or sad about it?_ she caught herself thinking. _I’m definitely proud for him. He seems really happy to find out he is a wizard, too. But… no buts, Hermione!_ she admonished mentally. _Let him decide, just like your parents let you._

“Mum, have you listened to anything I just said?” Nathan asked.

“I’m sorry, son. What were you saying?” she said, returning her full attention to him.

“I was asking when you’ll have some time for us to go buy the books and equipment I’ll need. And we also need to send an owl confirming I’m going to Hogwarts as soon as possible!” he said with the same enthusiasm his mother recognized from herself when facing the expectations behind an exciting new challenge.

It discarded the need to voice the question she was forming in her head. _It’s more than clear from his reactions and words that he prefers a Wizarding education to a Muggle one. He is going to Hogwarts. Oh, God! He is going to Hogwarts!_ she thought and the smile faded from her face at the same instant that she remembered her problem. She had to ask him anyway, so, hoping for a miracle, she said, “Are you sure you want to attend a Wizarding school, Nathan? It’s really different from your actual school, and your friends won’t be going to Hogwarts with you,” she pointed out to him, with a hopeful face.

He eyed her for a moment before asking, “Don’t you want me to go? I thought you would be proud of me for being a wizard,” he said quietly.

“I’m really proud of you, Nathan. I’m just asking you if that’s what you want. Do you want to be a wizard, Nathan?” She hoped against all odds for a negative answer, but didn’t expect the reaction her words had.

Nathan was on his feet the moment she finished her last question, a pained expression on his face. “You don’t want me to be a wizard? Why? You’re a witch! And my father was a wizard, right? You don’t talk about him but I know he was! And I bloody will be a wizard, too. I’m going to Hogwarts!” And with that he left the kitchen, leaving his distressed mother staring at the door to the living room.

She sighed gravely and buried her face on her hands once more. _Why did he have to bring his father in on the matter? I never said he was a wizard, where did he get that idea from?_ She had never revealed the identity of Nathan’s father. Not to him; not even to his father. It was a decision she had made before his birth.

It wasn’t that people never asked. Nathan asked once a year, on his birthday. Her answer was always the same: “Your father’s name is not important, Nathan. We have each other and that what’s important.” Of course, he wasn’t happy with her answer, and the question became a birthday tradition. Nathan was so stubborn and determined that it was difficult to know from whom he had inherited those features, his mother or his father; most probably from both of them. Hermione never changed the answer, though. She defended her secret with all her might; even if it led to a fight.

On his eighth birthday, Nathan was so determined to discover his father’s identity that he didn’t eat anything during the whole day and refused to open a single gift. He gave up his stand after a week, but Hermione was really disturbed by his actions at the time. She suffered with every meal he refused, every hatred-filled gaze he directed at her. Even Harry, who visited her on special dates such as birthdays and holidays, was distressed that year, and came back to check on them the next day.

“Why don’t you end this damn mystery once and for all, Hermione? It’s okay, ‘Mione. I won’t judge you, or be angry with you. Not after eight years, not even if it’s Snape,” Harry said that year. It had been a long time since he brought up the subject between them. Sure enough, Harry had noticed the evident physical similarities between Severus Snape and Nathan, but never questioned Hermione directly, and she never denied or confirmed his suspicions. “I won’t ask you, Hermione, but I want you to know that I’m here if you ever feel like talking about it. And I really think Nathan should know who his father is.” And that was the last time they talked about it.

She knew from Harry and Ron that Severus Snape was back teaching Potions at Hogwarts. After the war ended, his name was cleared with all the evidence Albus Dumbledore had left proving his innocence and loyalty. Well, he was still hated by many for his actions the night the late Headmaster died and for his association with Voldemort. He never denied the Avada Kedavra he used on Dumbledore, but he was absolved by the Wizengamot after their analysis of Dumbledore’s memories, and letters describing his conversations and reasons leading to Professor Snape’s actions that night.

Hermione was one of the few who kept her hopes up on the spy’s loyalty after the Headmaster’s death. She refused to believe that the great Albus Dumbledore could be mistaken for that long, and kept trying to find evidence that Snape was loyal to the Order, even after what she heard Harry say he did. And from the many theories she came across, one was right and they found the letters and memories Dumbledore had left for them, proving Professor Snape had killed him by his command.

After that, Severus Snape was back as a spy for the Order, and was essential for their victory in the war. He saved many lives, including her own when she was captured during a confrontation between the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix. There was only one Horcrux left and they were very close to the end of the war when she was taken by the Death Eaters. She stayed in their power for the nine days it took Harry to destroy the artifact and Voldemort himself, practically unharmed thanks to Snape. He protected her from the other Death Eaters the best he could without instigating suspicions that could blow his disguise and she was grateful for that.

That was one of the main motives why she didn’t tell anyone he was Nathan’s father. She couldn’t do that to him, not after the pain she knew he felt for what he had to do to heep her safe. No, she would never tell anyone that Severus Snape was her son’s father. Not even Nathan or Severus.

On the other hand, Nathan was leaving for Hogwarts in September. She couldn’t deny him that! She couldn’t prohibit Nathan to attend Hogwarts when she knew very well how it felt to receive that letter. No, she couldn’t. She would deal with the consequences the best she could! She hadn’t been a Gryffindor for nothing, right?

She left the table with another sigh and went to find Nathan. She found his bedroom door closed and knocked lightly three times. When she was turning to leave for the living room and wait until he was ready to talk to her, the door flew open with a bang and Nathan was back in his bed clutching his letter with his chin up and a defiant glare in his eyes. She sighed and entered the room.

“Nathan, I’m very proud you were invited to study at Hogwarts, I am. I’m just sad because it means you’re leaving home, leaving me…” and meeting your father, she added mentally. It was true. Part of her sadness was because she’d have to let her little baby go. “I don’t like the idea of you living so far away from me…”

Nathan got up from his bed and enveloped his mother in a tight hug. She couldn’t avoid the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes again. Her son was really a special young man. She knew he was ready for Hogwarts.

Eventually, they broke the hug and she forced a smile on her face. She looked at Nathan and said, “We are going to Diagon Alley next weekend for your books and supplies. We can send an owl to Hogwarts from there.”

“Oh, mum! Thank you. I won’t disappoint you, you’ll see. I’ll be the best wizard to ever set foot in Hogwarts!” he said, hugging her again.

She laughed at his pretentious words. So confident and passionate, determined to do his best to make her proud. So much like her at his age…

She petted his shiny coal-black hair and teased him, “You’re a very ambitious young man if you think you’re going to be the best wizard Hogwarts have ever seen! You know Harry Potter studied there, don’t you?”

Nathan had always been fascinated by the stories Ron, Harry and his mother used to tell him every time they met. He smirked at her and said, “Vanquishing that Voldemort guy wasn’t that big of a deal. And it was ten years ago.”

She chuckled and retorted with amusement, “You think it’s nothing, do you? Oh, I want to see you argue with him about that some day, or Ron, for that matter.”

“Uncle Ron would never win an argument with me!” he said dismissively before adding, “and Uncle Harry doesn’t think it was that big of a deal, either.”

“Well, I have to agree with you that one of Harry’s most noble qualities is his modesty. He would never admit that what he did was extraordinary,” she said nostalgically, and then looked down her nose to Nathan. “You should learn from him, you arrogant prat!” And they laughed together.

“So, is it really okay for me to go to Hogwarts, mum?” At her nod of confirmation, he added, “I’ll send you an owl every day, I promise!” Beaming at his mother, he took her hand and urged her to follow him to the bed. “Do you want to see the list of books I’ll be using, mum?”

“Yes, let’s see the books you’ll be using, Nathan,” she said cleaning the last tears from her face with the back of her free hand.

They sat on his bed to read the assigned book list together and talk about Hogwarts, something she only did when Harry, Ginny or Ron came to visit. Her baby has grown up and was time for him to experience all the fascinating and worrisome things the Wizarding world could offer. Including his father…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that’s it! I finally got the courage and published it! Now, review!
> 
>  **Coming next...** Nathan is introduced to the Wizarding world.


	2. Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Nathan go to Diagon Alley in a good (and not so good) company...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of my little story, how surreal is that? :0) Let’s introduce Nathan to the Wizarding world, shall we?
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READERS FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you very much!

The next Saturday after the letter from Hogwarts had arrived, Hermione and Nathan left for Diagon Alley. It was the first time Nathan had visited the Wizarding alley, since his mother had never set foot there after leaving the Wizarding world eleven years ago. She had contacted Harry and Ginny, who had contacted Ron, and they would be meeting at the Leaky Cauldron to accompany them.

When they entered the pub she felt a surge of nostalgia. The Leaky Cauldron hadn’t changed a thing in the last decade. Well, she shouldn’t be surprised. The Wizarding world didn’t evolve at the same pace as the Muggle world. They still used quills and parchments, amongst other things.

She scanned the tables, searching for the familiar faces of her friends, and found them at a table at the back of the pub, surrounded by children wanting to meet the famous Chudley Cannon’s Keeper and The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Defeat-You-Know-Who. Ron was talking animatedly with his little fans, much to Harry’s annoyance. Harry still had problems with his fame, even after all these years.

He gladly dismissed the children when he spotted Hermione and Nathan at the door of the pub. “‘Mione, Nathan! Good to see you,” he said from a distance.

“Hi, Harry!” she answered and crossed the space between them to hug him. “How are you, Ginny? Where are little Lily and Sirius?” she inquired while hugging Harry’s wife.

“They’re with Fred and George at the joke shop,” she answered. “Hi, Nathan! Ready to go to Hogwarts?” she added, petting the boy on the head.

“Sure, I’m ready! I know everything about it already,” he answered.

“Let me guess, your mother lent you her copy of _Hogwarts, a History_ ,” Harry said, giving Hermione a knowing look. “That makes you the second person to read it in the whole of Hogwarts’ history,” he said with a silly smile.

“Oh, stop teasing, Harry!” Hermione admonished, slapping his arm playfully. “You know how much important information I got from that book. You should have read it, too.”

“True! But why would we bother, when you could tell us all the important information,” said Ron, finally free from his little fans and joining the conversation. “Oi, Nathan! Ready to buy your new broom?” he said, ignoring Hermione’s murderous look.

“I don’t know. It’s written in the letter I got that first years aren’t suppose to have brooms,” was Nathan’s answer.

“Nah! Harry was already Gryffindor’s Seeker in his first year. Of course you need a broom,” he dismissed.

“No Quidditch during the first year, Ron. That’s the rule! Harry was an exception,” she said, glaring Ron’s way.

“Let’s go into Diagon Alley, then?” Harry said, coming to the rescue.

Hermione and Ron had dated for as much as six months after the end of their sixth year, but it was a total disaster. All they did was disagree about everything until they finally agreed to break up, realizing they were much better as just friends. Ron never married but seemed very comfortable about it. One of his biggest fears, besides spiders, was become his father.

“Yes, let’s go,” Nathan answered, “before my mum decides it’s time to use that wand of hers on Uncle Ron!”

And with that, they left the pub for the small courtyard that led to Diagon Alley. Harry tapped the bricks with his wand and the passage opened, revealing the alley crowded like in their own first year. Now, with Voldemort gone for more than a decade, the Wizarding world was back to its normal pace. With not a thing to worry about, besides shopping, the streets were filled with families and laughter.

Nathan took in everything with his curious black eyes. He had heard of Diagon Alley many times, but his imagination didn’t do the real thing justice. It was so much more than he expected. All those people wearing robes of all colors, and sparks of magic everywhere. The scent of the herbs and something he couldn’t figure out filled the air near the apothecary they were passing, challenging his senses.

Their first stop had to be Gringotts. He had heard about the wizarding bank, too. They needed to exchange their Muggle money for the wizards' equivalent. Nathan thought the Goblins were a little scary but very efficient. They exchanged enough money for their shopping and left the bank.

Nathan was trying to take everything in at once; the shops, the people, the objects... Hermione was watching every reaction and grinning madly. She knew what it was like to discover this place for the first time.

“Well, let’s start with Madam Malkin’s, then we can go to Flourish and Blotts for the books,” Hermione told her son, and added to herself in a low voice, “before those two drag you to the Quidditch shop and the joke shop.” And so they went.

Nathan was really happy when they reached the book shop. He loved books! He inherited his love of books from his mother; many an evening he had sat with her quietly to read and relax.

They were at the book shop for what seems like hours, and Hermione felt like she was truly home. _Everything is more than perfect!_ was her thought, until she caught sight of Nathan talking to a blond boy, discussing a book. She had no doubt it was a Malfoy and sure enough, none other than Draco Malfoy appeared behind the blond boy.

She was at her son’s side in a matter of seconds and in an instinctive reaction she placed a hand on Nathan’s arm and tried to pull him out of Draco’s range without being recognized. “Come, Nathan! We have other things to do before lunch.” But it wasn’t a successful attempt.

“Granger? You’re alive!” was all he managed to say, surprised to meet her after all those years.

“Malfoy,” was her retort.

“So, Nathan, you said?” he asked the boy, “You were saying you’re going to Hogwarts this year?”

“Yes, sir. I am,” he answered politely.

“Well, I see you and my son, Devon, will be fellow first years, then,” he added with a smirk directed to Hermione.

“I’m sure they’ll be good friends,” she retorted defiantly, and turning to her son she said. “Let’s go, Nathan, we have other shops to visit and it’s getting late.”

“It was nice to see you healthy and alive, Granger. I suppose you went back to your Muggle world after the war was over,” he commented acidly.

“Yes, I went. I was just trying to avoid people like you, Malfoy!” And with that she took Nathan by one arm and dragged him to the counter to purchase their books. Soon, they were back in the street.

“Mum, why were you so rude to Devon’s father?” Nathan was used to his mother temper and sharp tongue, but he rarely saw her become so angered without strong provocation, and he couldn’t figure what it was Mr. Malfoy had said that had infuriated her so.

“The Malfoys are not good people, Nathan! Draco, Devon’s father, caused too much trouble when we attended Hogwarts together, and I don’t think he has changed much.”

“So, I can’t be friend with Devon? He seems an okay guy to me.”

“You can be friends with everyone. I just want you to be careful when it comes to the Malfoys.”

“I will.” Nathan knew that was no good pressing the matter any longer. _What was so terrible about the Malfoys, anyway? I’ll have to ask Uncle Harry…_ he thought.

Soon, they finished their shopping for the school supplies and headed to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop Ron’s brothers owned. Nathan had met all the Weasleys some years ago during a Christmas party at the Burrow. He enjoyed every second of their time there. The twins were very funny, and since his mother had decided they would be shopping in Diagon Alley this weekend, he couldn’t stop thinking about their joke shop.

The shop was crowded. There were so many things on the shelves that it was hard to decide what to look at first. That was when Lily, Harry’s daughter, came and took Nathan’s hand to give him a tour through the shop, leaving Hermione to herself.

She took the time to talk to Harry about Malfoy. “Harry, what do you know about the Malfoys these days?”

The question took Harry by surprise. He wasn’t expecting Hermione to take interest in Draco after all these years. “Why do you ask?”

“I just had the displeasure of meeting Draco and his son at the book shop. I want to know how dangerous the boy is. He’ll be starting Hogwarts this year as well, and I want to make sure Nathan won’t have any kind of problem with him,” she informed her friend.

“Oh, I didn’t know the Malfoy brat was Nathan’s age!” he said with honest surprise. “I don’t think he’s a problem, ‘Mione. The Malfoys lost most of their influence when Voldemort fell.” And after a few moments of silence, he added, “But I wouldn’t mess with them all the same. I’ll see what I can find out about the brat and I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, you should tell Nathan to be careful around him.”

“I already did,” she agreed.

Seeing his friends preoccupation hasn’t subsided, Harry assured her, “He’ll be fine, Hermione. He’s a strong young man. I’m sure no one will be bullying him and getting away with it. He’s too much like you were at his age, if not stronger.”

“I know, Harry. It’s just…” she trailed off, not wanting to voice her worries about her son’s departure to Hogwarts. She couldn’t tell Harry how worried she was about Nathan meeting his father for the first time. And now a Malfoy was going to be there, too. There were so many things her son didn’t know… didn’t understand…

“He’ll be fine,” Harry assured her once more. “Not even Snape will be able to make him flinch, let alone a Malfoy brat!” he said matter-of-factly.

 _Snape… How will Severus Snape treat Nathan?_ she thought. _What if he treats him worse than the other students because he’s my son? He doesn’t know Nathan is also_ his _son, after all!_ Hermione was distracted from her musings by Nathan’s call from the other end of the shop.

“Mum! You got to see this! They look like plain marbles, but when you squeeze them, they expand and explode in different smoke colors and smells. Isn’t it cool?” Nathan was really taken with all the magical products in the shop. Hermione had never abandoned magic completely, but she didn’t have many magical artifacts in their home. She chose to raise Nathan in the Muggle world and thought better than filling the house with magical objects.

Some time later, they left the joke shop with more items than Hermione thought healthy for a first year at Hogwarts, but most of them were gifts from Nathan’s many ‘uncles’ and she couldn’t deny him the treat. Their last stop was the Owl Post to send the letter confirming that Nathan would attend Hogwarts next September. As soon as the owl was sent on its way, they left Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, and were back into Muggle London heading home.

There was a little more than a month until September 1, when Nathan would be leaving his home - and his mother - to start his life as a wizard at Hogwarts. It was time enough for Hermione to prepare him for the challenges of a wizard’s life, and first on her list was cautions of a certain Potions master. She had to try to prevent any hatred between them, but without telling the whole truth. It wasn’t an easy task, but Hermione wasn’t famous for the easy tasks she performed. She was famous for her brain work on what people called ‘lost causes’, and that’s the kind of effort she was going to apply to the task at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to add a note for the kind readers who took a little of their time to leave me a review. I’m really overwhelmed with your kind words of encouragement! After that, I can’t even think of abandoning this story and you’ll have it updated weekly (every Friday, I believe). Just keep reading… and reviewing! :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** Nathan arrives at Hogwarts, catching the attention of a certain Potions master.


	3. The Welcoming Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan arrives at Hogwarts and disturbs a certain Potions master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter and counting! :0) We’re finally at Hogwarts! What will a certain Potions Master think about our Granger?
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READERS FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you very much!

September arrived faster than Hermione could have predicted. Before she knew it, it was time to take Nathan to King’s Cross Station so he could board the Hogwarts Express from Platform Nine and Three Quarters. 

“Come on, mum! I don’t want to be late for the train!” whined Nathan from the door.

“I’m coming, and we won’t be late! Are you this desperate to be rid of me?” she asked with a pained voice.

“Oh, mum! Stop that! I’ll write to you every weekend; we already agreed on that,” he said for what seemed the thousandth time.

“I know, I know!” she said, taking her coat and helping him with the trunk.

~o0oOo0o~

Soon, they were at the platform and Hermione was hugging Nathan for the twentieth time. “Mum, I can’t breathe!” he said through her coat, where his head was buried on her shoulder. “And you’re embarrassing me, as well!” he added.

“Oh, sorry!” was all she could manage through her sobs. “It’s better you board the train now, then,” she said, wiping some tears away with the back of her hand. “Take care of yourself! Remember everything I told you and you’ll be fine. If you need anything, you send me an owl and I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I’ll take care, mum. And I’ll send you an owl first thing in the morning,” he assured her, then took the handle of his trunk and entered the train. Soon, he found a free compartment and went to the window to farewell his mother as the train started to move.

“I love you,” she mouthed to him, and he sent her a kiss in return.

When he looked back from the window, the compartment door opened and two boys appeared at the doorway. “Is there free space for two?” one of them asked.

“Sure! I’m alone in here,” Nathan replied. After the boys had stowed their things and were comfortably seated, he asked, “Are you first years, too?”

“Yes, I’m Kevin Brown,” said the boy with light brown hair and blue eyes. 

“And I’m Anderson Wood, but call me Andy,” said the other boy, the one with black, straight hair and honey-brown eyes.

“I’m Nathan Granger, nice to meet you.”

“Granger? Are you related to Hermione Granger, the witch who helped Harry Potter vanquish You-Know-Who?” Brown asked.

“Yes, she’s my mother,” he said, surprised that they knew of her. That was something new to him. He had lived his whole life in the Muggle world, and even with all her mother had told him about her and his two uncles’ fame, he only realized its magnitude after the boy’s reaction to his answer. 

“Wow!” exclaimed Andy. “She’s your mother! How cool is that!?”

Nathan had his mouth open in the verge of saying what he thought of it when he was bombarded with yet another question.

“Do you know Harry Potter, then?” the first boy asked. 

“Yes, I know Harry. He’s my godfather, actually.”

“Wow!” exclaimed both of them, making Nathan flinch a little.

“You’re saying THE Harry Potter is your godfather?” asked an astounded Andy.

“Yes, Harry and Ginny are my godparents,” added Nathan, waiting with an arched brow for another exclamation from his new friends, but this time they just stared at him with their mouths agape. 

He was just starting to feel uncomfortable when Kevin finally shook his head and found his voice again. “What is he like? I mean, does he tell you stories about You-Know-Who?”

And Andy added, “Does he let you ride his broom?”

Harry wasn’t famous only for his defeat of Voldemort. After killing the dreaded wizard, he took what he liked to call ‘a vacation’ from all the worrisome things and became a professional Quidditch player for a while before starting his Auror Training.

“We don’t see each other much, as I live in the Muggle world with my mother, but he visits us on special occasions,” he answered. “He doesn’t like to talk about Voldemort–” he paused as the boys flinched with the name, and continued, “—and I don’t have a courtyard so he didn’t bring his broom with him,” he finished.

“Oh!” Kevin said, seeming disappointed, and then looked seriously at Nathan. “Why do you speak his name?”

“Whose? Voldemort’s?” he said, and the boys flinched again. He just rolled his eyes.

“Yes…” ventured Andy.

“Well, he is dead, and my mum always called him by his name, even when he was alive. Uncle Harry says that to fear a name is to fear the wizard himself. As I don’t fear Voldemort, I don’t care about calling him by his name,” he explained, ignoring yet another flinch at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name.

“You’re very courageous if you don’t fear him. My dad told me that He was a very powerful wizard who killed a lot of people, and that He returned from the dead once. Don’t you fear He could be back again?” asked Kevin.

“Oh, no! Uncle Harry told me they destroyed all his soul pieces before killing him this time. There’s nothing left!” he said matter-of-factly.

“If you say so,” was all the response he got from Kevin.

The rest of the trip passed quickly as the boys discussed Quidditch and got to know each other better. Nathan really liked both of them. At least one of his concerns about leaving his Muggle school was proving unfounded; he would have good friends at Hogwarts. If he could choose, he would like Kevin and Andy to be in the same House as himself. _Gryffindor_ , he added mentally.

As Hogsmeade approached, they changed into their school robes and waited for the train to stop at the station. As soon as it stopped, they took their trunks and headed out.

Reaching the platform, Nathan heard a strong voice calling, “Firs’ years! Firs’ years, over here!”

It was Hagrid, no doubt! His mother had told him all about the half-giant. He approached the immense figure and asked, “You’re Hagrid, aren’t you?”

The half-giant looked down at the dark haired boy and answered, “Yeah, and yeh must be a firs’ year. Do I know yeh, little one?”

“No, but I heard a lot about you from my mother,” the boy said.

“Who’s yeh mother?” Hagrid asked, curious.

“Hermione Granger,” Nathan supplied, and a big smile filled the half-giant’s hairy face.

“Welcome to Hogwarts…” Hagrid paused with an inquiring note in his voice.

“Nathan, sir. Nathan Granger,” the boy supplied.

“Nathan,” Hagrid finished. “Say hello to yeh mother for me.”

Nathan smiled at the half-giant and said, “I will.”

In a moment, all the first years were near Hagrid and they headed to the boats to cross the lake and reach the castle.

~o0oOo0o~

Arriving at the huge oak front doors, all the first years grouped at the steps and the door flew open revealing a little wizard.

“The firs’ years, Professor Flitwick.”

“Oh, thank you, Hagrid,” squeaked the little wizard.

The first years followed Professor Flitwick though the big door and were led into a small room and arranged into alphabetical order. After a few minutes, the short wizard said, “The Sorting Ceremony will start now. Come with me, please.”

The followed the tiny professor into the Great Hall, glancing around the huge room in awe. On a stool in front of the Head Table rested a dirty hat that soon started to sing its annual song. As soon as it finished, Professor Flitwick started to call the students forward. “Artcher, Duncan,” and the boy went to the stool and put on the hat. A moment later…

“HUFFLEPUFF!” shouted the hat.

The boy took the hat off his head, put it back on the stool, and then headed to the Hufflepuff table where he was received with applause.

One by one, the first years put the hat on and waited for it to shout a House name. Kevin Brown was sorted into Gryffindor and a short while later it was Nathan’s turn to try the hat.

Professor Flitwick called, “Granger, Nathan.”

Nathan walked to the stool and lifted the hat onto his head, oblivious of the dark-haired wizard who had been staring at him from the Head Table since the very moment his name was announced. 

As soon as the hat settled, he could hear its voice inside his head, “Hmm, you are a difficult one. Brilliant mind, I see. A great heart and lots of courage, I can feel. You’re very talented, as well. Oh, and ambitious… Very difficult.”

All the time the hat was speaking in his head he was thinking about his mother, Harry and Ron, and unconsciously asking to be placed in Gryffindor. The hat seemed to listen to his subconscious pleas.

“Gryffindor, eh? Are you sure? You could be great in Slytherin, with your ambitions… If you’re sure, GRYFFINDOR!”

Nathan left the hat on the stool and took off to the Gryffindor table. Cheers greeted him as he sat down. He was relieved not to have been sorted into Slytherin. All the other three Houses would be fine, but he was sorted to the best one: Gryffindor! Just like his mother and her friends.

From Gryffindor table he watched Devon Malfoy being sorted into Slytherin, and a nervous Andy Wood join them after being the last Gryffindor sorted that night. 

The Headmistress saluted the students and announced the beginning of the feast. Just then, Nathan felt a pair of eyes staring at his back and turned to meet them. Professor Snape and Nathan locked eyes for a moment and the boy smiled. The Professor’s response was an arched eyebrow followed by a grimace, and Nathan went back to his food, never losing the smile.

“What are you smiling about?” asked Andy.

“Nothing special,” he dismissed. “I was just thinking about something my mum told me, that’s all. The food is delicious!”

~o0oOo0o~

At the Head Table, the sour Potions master was picking at his food and trying to understand why the Granger boy had smiled at him. _First years don’t smile at me when I stare at them; they run crying! What’s wrong with this boy? Doesn’t he know who I am?_ he thought, grimacing. The boy’s reaction to his intimidation was disgusting and intriguing.

Ever since the Charms professor had announced him as a Granger, Severus could think of nothing else. Even the Malfoy boy hadn’t distracted him. _Granger…_ he thought. _Is he related to her? A nephew, perhaps?_ That was all he allowed his mind to guess. 

He lifted his head to watch the boy once more. _He doesn’t have that bushy hair, but it isn’t straight, either, and not brown in color, but coal black. The boy isn’t short, either. He makes a good figure, actually_ , he considered, curious that he couldn’t find strong resemblance of Hermione Granger in the boy’s physical appearance, but at the same time he reminded him of her, somehow.

In the middle of his musings, the boy turned his way again. This time, Severus glared at him with his trademark sneer without hesitation, and was answered with an arched eyebrow from the boy. Severus narrowed his eyes in visible fury. _Who does this boy think he is?_ he thought. A low growl formed in his throat and McGonagall turned his way with an inquiring face. As he ignored her, she followed his gaze to the first years at the Gryffindor table and frowned.

“What’s your problem, Severus? Already chosen a new Gryffindor to torment?” she inquired. “You should at least wait until the first day of classes and give the other Houses a chance,” she added.

“What do you know about the Granger boy?” he asked. “Is he related to that insufferable know-it-all that you used to protect, Minerva?”

“Oh, so that’s what you’re brooding about,” she said, and Severus narrowed his eyes once more. “I believe he’s her son, as I was told by Potter.”

“Son?” he managed without showing his surprise, and then added with a smirk, “So, I haven’t lost my touch in choosing my ‘favorite’ students after all.”

“Oh, Severus, give the boy a chance!” the Headmistress admonished. “You don’t even know him! Just because you disliked his mother doesn’t mean you have to dislike him as well. Don’t make the same mistakes you did with Potter, Severus,” she added with a warning look.

Severus went back to his food but found he wasn’t hungry anymore. He glanced one more time in the boy’s direction and couldn’t avoid the memories that invaded his mind. _Hermione Granger’s son. Hermione… The girl who tormented me the six years I was her teacher, and yet…_ he couldn’t avoid the true feelings remembrance of her always brought, and narrowed his eyes. She was a reminder of things he wanted to forget; things he was forced to do during the war against Voldemort. Oh, he hated having those feelings.

As soon as the feast ended and all the students were in their Common Rooms, his obligations as Head of House were fulfilled and he could return to the peace of his private rooms to prepare for the following day. Oh, how he hated the first day of classes!

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan returned his attention to his friends after that demonstration from the Potions professor. _Why is he so furious? He’s the one staring at me!_ he thought. But he soon remembered what his mother had told him about the man and dismissed his display of hatred with a shrug, focusing on his new friends once more.

Dessert was served and the feast was drawing to an end, but not before the Headmistress gave some warnings concerning the Forbidden Forest and some recommendations from the caretaker, Mr Filch. 

Soon, the first years were gathered together by one of the prefects and were led to Gryffindor Tower. Nathan was fascinated by all the things in the castle. He had heard or read about most of them, but it was so much more that what he imagined. It was… magical!

They stopped in front of a portrait of the Fat Lady, who asked for a password.

“Chocolate Frog,” the prefect said, and the lady moved, revealing a passage to the Common Room. 

They entered and were led to their dormitories, where they found their trunks by the side of the four-poster beds. Nathan changed into his pajamas and climbed into his bed. He had to write the promised letter to his mother so he could send it first thing in the morning. Then, he fell asleep, wondering what his first classes would be like.

~o0oOo0o~

It was three in the morning when Severus Snape finally retired to bed. He couldn’t avoid the ghosts haunting his mind… memories of days he thoroughly fought hard to forget, days full of hatred and distress… memories brought back to the front of his mind by Professor Flitwick’s call of a name. _Granger_.

Hermione Granger was part of a time in his life full of bad memories, the worst of them, actually. Memories of events he dreaded; events that took place that blasted year Albus Dumbledore had died by his wand. It didn’t matter to him that the late Headmaster had asked him to do it; it didn’t change what he felt when he muttered the curse that took the old man’s life, the life of the only man who had ever really trusted him, leaving him alone to face his fate. And then…

Then, Hermione Granger, of all people, had trusted him after all he did. Even after the events that took place in the Astronomy Tower, after he had killed Dumbledore. _I’ll never understand why she kept her trust in me_ , he mused. He had spent many hours, during many nights before, trying to solve the mystery that was Hermione Granger. The girl stood against everyone and everything to prove his loyalty to Albus, and the true intentions behind his act. No, he would never understand Hermione Granger.

 

 _And I betrayed her_. He closed his eyes in a pained gesture. _What I had to do to save her from the Dark Lord’s grip…_ He couldn’t forget. He couldn’t forgive himself.

Severus Snape shifted in his bed, and eventually fell asleep; not the restorative kind of sleep that would prepare him for his first day of classes, but a restless sleep full of nightmares from days long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all, and keep reviewing. I love to hear what you think!
> 
>  **Coming next…** The first day of classes, including Potions and DADA.


	4. The First Classes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan finally starts his classes at Hogwarts. His first day includes Potions and DADA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fourth chapter, wow! :0) Today’s classes include Potions and DADA. Let’s see what kind of student Nathan is… 
> 
> **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you very much!

Nathan, after taking a wrong turn in the corridor leading back from the Owlery, entered the Great Hall late for breakfast. He spotted his friends and went to take a seat by them, failing to notice a pair of dark eyes observing his every move.

“Hey, Nathan! Where were you? You’re late!” asked Kevin the moment he joined them.

“I went to the Owlery to send a letter to my mum and got a little lost.”

“How did you _find_ the Owlery?” asked Josephina, a fellow first-year with long, black hair and green eyes.

“Oh, I asked some third year boy,” he answered. “I can’t remember his name.”

He served himself some eggs and buttered a piece of toast. “Can you pass me the juice, please?” he asked Kevin, and thanked the boy before serving himself a goblet.

They chatted animatedly for a while before Professor Lupin, their Head of House and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, approached with their timetables.

“Here you go, Nathan,” he said, handing him the parchment. 

“Thank you, Professor,” Nathan said with a smile. 

He had heard many stories about Remus Lupin when he was younger. He knew the teacher was a werewolf and a good friend of Harry. He was also a war hero for his role in the Order of the Phoenix, fighting against Voldemort. Nathan had met Lupin once before, when he visited Harry on his godfather’s birthday.

Their first class was double Potions and soon the conversation around him turned to Professor Snape.

“I heard he is really nasty with Gryffindors,” a girl commented.

“My brother said he killed a student because he exploded a cauldron in class! He was a Death Eater, you know,” added another girl, and all the students listening widened their eyes, save for one - Nathan - who started laughing.

A third year who was listening as well stared at Nathan in disbelief. “Do you think it’s funny?” he asked in a reprimanding voice. “I don’t know about the student that exploded a cauldron, but he definitely killed the previous Headmaster.”

“Oh, I know that!” Nathan assured them, and nonchalantly returned to his breakfast. When he felt the students still staring at him in disbelief, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “What?”

“What?” repeated Kevin. “You knew we’d be having classes with a murderer and you think it’s funny?”

“Well, he’s not really a murderer,” Nathan said.

“That, I don’t know, but I really don’t want to be late for his class. Have you finished, Nathan?” said Andy, getting up from his seat at the table.

“Quite,” was Nathan’s answer, shoving a last piece of buttered toast in his mouth and getting up from his seat as well.

The group headed to the dungeons, where the Potions classes were held. They entered the classroom and found some Slytherins already there. They took their seats and waited.

Minutes later, Professor Snape entered the classroom and the door banged loudly, making some students jump in their seats. With his black robes billowing after him, he went to the desk at the front of the room and took his seat behind it. Without a glance at the students, he started taking the roll call, pausing when he read Nathan’s name to look at the boy, and also at Malfoy’s, for the same reason. Snape finished calling the names and finally looked up at the whole class.

“You’re here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began. “I have lost my hope, after thirty years of classes filled with dunderheads, that any one student, let alone an entire class, will understand the beauty of a simmering cauldron and the magic lying within.”

The silence was absolute in the room after he finished his speech. Not a student had taken their eyes off the Potions master, and they followed him as he left his table and started walking between the desks. 

“Granger!” he said suddenly. “What’s the difference between Doxy eggs and Biting Fairy eggs?”

“None, sir. Doxies and Biting Fairies are the same creature. They can be found in magical forests and their bite is mildly venomous; their eggs are ingredients for the antidote,” Nathan explained to an astonished class. The only one that seemed unimpressed with the answer was Professor Snape.

“So, you are an insufferable know-it-all just like your mother,” he commented. “Can I presume that you’ve already read the textbook from cover to cover?”

“Twice, sir.”

 _The brat!_ he thought, then smirked and said aloud, “Well, then I must warn you that despite all the knowledge you _memorized_ from the book, it won’t be enough for your success in my class, Mr. Granger.”

Nathan smiled at him and answered calmly, “I know, sir.”

Snape narrowed his eyes at the smiling boy in front of him. _What’s wrong with this brat?_ he thought, and then addressed the class in general.

“Open your books to page sixteen and prepare to brew the potion. I want a phial with a sample of the disasters you create on my desk at the end of this class.”

He gave then some information on the anti-boils potion they were to make as they proceeded to prepare ingredients, adding them one by one to their cauldrons. Snape swept around the classroom, watching every move, terrorizing every student with his dark, stern presence. He criticized everyone, even the Slytherins, but took points only from Gryffindors.

The only one that seems to be enjoying the class was Nathan, much to Snape’s annoyance. He stopped behind the Gryffindor and stayed there for longer than he did the others. Not a flinch, not a trembling hand, not a hesitation when he cleared his throat… just smiles and… giggles?

 _He’s giggling!_ Snape couldn’t avoid the frown that creased his forehead in disgust. _How dare he!_

“Is there something amusing about your potion, Mr. Granger?” he snarled.

“No, sir.”

“So, were you laughing at me, then?” he said softly, in a most dangerous tone of voice.

 _Oh, oh!_ He had to think fast. “Never, sir. I was just remembering something funny and—” he managed, before being interrupted.

“Five points from Gryffindor for lack of attention in brewing, Mr. Granger!” Snape hissed before the boy could finish his excuse. “And the rest of you, back to work!” Snape snapped at the others, who had stopped to listen to the exchange.

The class was extremely quiet after that. Nobody else wanted to attract the wrath of the Potions master. They turned in their phials at the end of the lesson and left the dungeons as quickly as possible except Nathan, who took his time collecting his things. Snape stared at the back of the finally-retreating Gryffindor with an unreadable expression on his face.

In the halls, the first-years were talking about their impressions of their first potions class, whilst heading for the Defense classroom. 

“The man is a terrorist!” said Andy. “He keeps prowling around like a beast ready to swoop in and attack.”

“He’s creepy,” added Josephina quietly.

That was when Nathan caught up with them. Kevin looked at him curiously.

“What were you laughing about, anyway?” he asked.

“Nothing really, I was actually remembering something funny my mother had said to me once,” Nathan answered, and couldn’t suppress smirking with the thought.

“You’re strange sometimes,” admitted Kevin.

The truth was, Nathan _had_ been laughing at Snape, or, more accurately, at what his mother had once told him about Snape. The Potions master did everything she said he would do: asked a difficult question, reprimanded Nathan for knowing the answer, and hovered about trying to intimidate and confuse him, becoming angry when he was unable to do so. It was too much not to laugh!

He did enjoy the lesson, though. Potion-making was one of the few magical things his mother had taught him, and he loved brewing healing concoctions with her. Everything Professor Snape had said was fascinating.

Some wrong corridors and stairs later, the group reached the Defense classroom just in time for the beginning of the lesson. Professor Lupin was already at the front of the room waiting for the last students to take their seats. 

The professor waved his wand, and his named appeared on the blackboard. Then, he said, “Good morning, class! I’m Professor Lupin and I’ll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.” 

Moving to the front of his desk, Professor Lupin proceeded, “We should begin with what’s considered Dark Arts and what’s not. Who can tell me the name of a Dark Curse?”

Since the fall of Voldemort more than a decade ago, the Dark Arts were not a subject of hall conversation, and few knew about Dark Curses anymore, so no one volunteered an answer. Then, Professor Lupin called, “Nathan?”

“The Cruciatus Curse, sir,” he provided.

“Correct! Five points to Gryffindor,” said Lupin. And then asked of him, “Why is this a Dark Curse, Nathan?”

“It’s one of the three Unforgivables. It targets the nervous system of the victim, causing severe pain and ultimately irreversible brain damage; it also demands the caster to really desire to cause the pain,” he finished.

“Very good, Nathan. Five more points to Gryffindor. The feeling behind the curse is what makes it Dark Arts; it demands something of the caster,” he explained. “Does anyone else know of another one?”

Devon Malfoy was now eyeing Nathan with mild interest. He didn’t think the boy would know anything about the Dark Arts. His father had taught him some of it, and he, too, knew all about the Unforgivables. Devon lifted his hand.

“Yes, Devon,” said Lupin.

“The Imperius Curse, sir,” he said and added without waiting to be asked, “and it’s also one of the Unforgivables.”

“Correct! Five points to Slytherin,” said Lupin. “The Imperius Curse is used to command the victim to do anything asked by the caster. The last Unforgivable, since we’re talking about them, is the Killing Curse. The first two curses mentioned can be countered, but not the Killing Curse,” he added.

A hand flipped into the air, and Professor Lupin addressed the owner. “Yes, Josephina?”

“If the Killing Curse can’t be countered, how did Harry Potter survive You-Know-Who’s attack?” she asked.

“Well, Harry Potter was protected by his mother’s love, because she died to save him. It was a very special occurrence,” he answered.

They continue to discuss what was and what was not considered Dark Arts, and soon the lesson was over. They bid farewell to Professor Lupin and headed to the Great Hall for lunch. 

At the Gryffindor table, the first years sat together and talked about the classes they had been to so far. 

“How do you know all the answers to the teachers’ questions?” urged Kevin, serving himself a sandwich from a large platter. 

“Yeah, and where did you learn all those things about Dark Curses?” added Andy.

“Oh, it’s nothing really. I must have read about it in a book or something,” he said dismissively, but then stopped and added, “No. I think my mum told me about the curses... or Uncle Harry did. I can’t recall.”

“Oh, of course! You were raised by heroes,” mocked Andy.

“What about that Slytherin, Malfoy?” asked Adam, a Muggle-born fellow first-year. “He knew a lot about the Dark Arts too.”

“Well, his family is known for their involvement with the Dark Arts,” said Andy. “They’re a very traditional wizarding family. Purebloods.”

“If everybody knows they perform Dark Arts, why don’t they arrest them?” Adam asked.

“Because nobody could ever prove it,” Nathan said. “But there’s nothing wrong with knowing about Dark Arts, as long as you don’t use it. I don’t think Malfoy would have ever cast a Dark Curse,” he added.

They finished their meal and left the castle for Greenhouse One, where they would have their first Herbology lesson. 

The afternoon classes were all exciting, except for History of Magic. Though the subject was interesting, its ghost teacher, Professor Binns, was really boring. 

After dinner, Nathan and the other boys headed to the Common Room, where they sat in chairs near the fireplace. Some boys were playing wizard chess, while others were playing Exploding Snap, and some were having quiet conversations. 

After a while, and with heavy eyes, Nathan bid goodnight to his friends and climbed the spiral staircase towards his dormitory. He changed into his pajamas, lay down on his bed, and was asleep in no time. His first day of classes had been both exciting and tiring, and the first of many others that were yet to come, for he had seven years ahead of him before his graduation day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the classes. Nathan sure did, but I’m not so sure about Snape! :0) I want to hear from you readers, please review! :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** Hermione receives a letter and Nathan has some work to do in the library but got stuck with uncalled company.


	5. Incident in the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some letters exchanged between mother and son, and some distracting incidents in the library…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Five, people! :0) Some letters exchanged between mother and son, and some distracting incidents in the library…
> 
> **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you very much!

The first Saturday morning after Nathan’s departure to Hogwarts saw an anxious Hermione pacing the living room of her apartment. They had agreed he would send a letter every weekend, and she couldn’t avoid the anticipation she was feeling. 

_Where’s the owl, where is it?_ she thought as she paced the room. Thoughts of what could have happened during this whole week her son had spent in Hogwarts haunted her. _Is he okay? Is he adapting to the Wizarding world? Has he made friends already? Are they good friends?_ At that thought, she remembered the Malfoy boy, and sat on the couch, frowning slightly. _I hope he is being careful around Malfoy like I told him to._

Then she shuddered as her real concerns surfaced from her inner thoughts. She closed her eyes and sighed. _What does Severus think of Nathan? Does he notice him at all? Is he treating him like he did me when I was a first-year?_ she mused. 

“I hope they don’t hate each other,” she voiced to the room, and then rose from the couch as a brown owl appeared, flapping its wings as it landed near her.

She fretfully took the letter from the bird and went to a chair near the window, ignoring the owl, much to its annoyance. She tore open the envelope and took the parchment folded inside.

_**Dear Mum,** _

_**My first week at Hogwarts has been amazing! The other Gryffindors are great friends, especially Kevin and Andy. The teachers are very good and I love the magical classes. I’ve already used my wand in Charms, and it really worked! It seems that it was really a good choice for me. We got to levitate a feather, and I was the first one to do it. Professor Flitwick said I’m a natural and gave me house points! I think I’m really good at Charms.** _

_The pretentious little prat!_ she thought with a smile in her face. She was proud of her son’s success with Charms. She continued reading…

_**But my favorite subject is Potions. We had to brew a remedy for boils on our own! It was the best class of the week, even though Professor Snape took house points from me for lack of attention when brewing…** _

She frowned. _So, he’s being his old nasty self. Will he ever change?_ she asked mentally and went back to the letter… 

_**…I was paying attention, I swear! He was hovering behind me and I was just trying not to laugh at his attempts to make me hesitate on the ingredients I was adding, just like you said he would. I think he heard me, and asked if I thought the potion was funny. I said I was laughing at something I remembered just then, but he took the points anyway.**_

Her mouth dropped open after those words. _Nathan was laughing at him? Oh my God! That must have infuriated him!_ she thought, then with a smirk added out loud, “Serves him right for attempting to misguide Nathan!” 

_**He’s really nasty with the students, but I liked his class the most. The other students were really afraid of him, even before the first class. They were all talking about how he was a Death Eater and saying that he had killed the other Headmaster. But I’m not afraid of him! You told me what he did and why, and I believe you.** _

A notch of pity caught in her stomach. _Poor Severus! People won’t ever understand all the things he had to do and the decisions he had to make_ , she thought, sighing. Hermione was well aware of the kind of things he had to do and the decisions Severus had to make during his life. One such difficult decision had saved her life, and she respected him for his courage and strength. _I must remember to tell Nathan how brave Severus was during the war. He might be able to change the others’ opinion of their teacher._

_**Besides that, I learned how to change a match into a needle in Transfiguration, about dark curses in Defense, about soil properties in Herbology, about constellations in Astronomy, and about Goblin revolts in History. Professor Binns is the worst teacher, but the others are all pretty cool!** _

_**It’s getting late and I think I should sleep now. I’ll have to wake up really early tomorrow to send you this letter. I know you’ll be expecting it first thing in the morning.** _

_**I hope you’re fine at home. I miss you very much, and I know you miss me, too. I don’t want you to be sad, so find something to do during the weekends. Go visit Uncle Harry!** _

_**Love you,** _

_**Nathan** _

“Love you, too, son!” she said in a soft whisper, fighting back tears. She really missed him.

She sighed and folded the letter. _At least he didn’t mention Malfoy_ , she thought as she left for her study to find some paper and pen to write back her son.

~o0oOo0o~

After lunch, Nathan left for the library in search of some references to add to his Potions assignment. The other boys went to the grounds to play in the sun, but Nathan preferred to finish his essay first and play later. He took his school work very seriously, something he had learned from his mother.

Entering the library, he quickly searched for an unoccupied table at the back of the room. He didn’t like noise when he studied. He placed his book bag on the table and headed for the Potions section, but never reached it. 

A noise coming from the end of a dark aisle between two shelves distracted him. He heard a shriek. Ignoring a sound like that was against his inquisitive nature, so he followed it, carefully, so as not to alert anyone lurking there of his presence. 

He found three boys in Slytherin uniforms threatening a Hufflepuff first-year. He approached the boys and recognized one of the Slytherins as the boy from the book shop, Malfoy. Despite his attempt at discretion, they heard his footsteps and turned to see who was there. Having been discovered, Nathan squared his shoulders in a defiant pose. 

“What are you doing? Leave him alone!” Nathan demanded.

“Mind your own business, Gryffindor! And tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll be next!” threatened one of them. The two boys accompanying Malfoy were older than Nathan, probably third-years. 

Nathan couldn’t leave them to beat the boy, though. He moved closer to the group and held his thirteen-inch, ash with dragon heartstring core wand at the ready. Malfoy saw it and took his wand in his right hand as well. 

“What are you going to do, Granger? I’m not a feather you can levitate,” Malfoy said with a smirk.

“Shut up, Malfoy!” he spat, and then he looked to the older Slytherins. “Leave the boy alone or you’ll see what else I can do with my wand besides levitate feathers!” he said in the most dangerous voice he could muster, followed by a smirk of his own. He didn’t know any useful hexes for a duel, but he wasn’t going to back down now! He wasn’t a person to take threats lightly.

But before any hex could escape a wand, a tall, dark figure appeared behind Nathan.

“I don’t believe it’s prudent to hex other students in the library, Mr. Granger,” Professor Snape said in a cold voice. “Explain what’s going on here.”

By that time, Devon had already hidden his wand up the sleeve of his robe, and with an innocent face he said, “He was threatening to hex us, sir.”

One of the other Slytherins added, “We were just helping this boy he was threatening to beat.”

Nathan was outraged with the accusation. _How could they!_ he thought, glaring at the Slytherins.

“I was not!” he bellowed. “ _They_ were threatening the boy when I came in, Professor! They’re lying!”

“Are you denying you had your wand out to hex them, then, Mr. Granger?” asked Professor Snape.

“No, I’m not. I was trying to make then leave that boy alone,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Well, that will cost you ten points from Gryffindor and a detention, Mr. Granger! To be served with me on Wednesday, after dinner. Is that clear?” Professor Snape said in a deadly voice. He seemed to be enjoying having a go at the impertinent Gryffindor.

“But, sir—” he tried to argue.

“Speak another word and I’ll make it twenty points and a weeks worth of detention!” hissed the professor.

Nathan knew it was a lost battle and didn’t try to argue the point with the Potions master. His mother was very clear on this aspect of the dreaded professor. Nathan nodded acceptance and asked, “Can I go now, sir? I have to finish my homework.”

“You may,” was all the response he got.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, and he left the aisle between the shelves, glaring at the other boys.

When he finally got to the potions section, he searched the shelves for books he could use for his essay, muttering to himself under his breath.

“Why did Professor Snape believe them?” _Was it because they were Slytherins? It can’t be_ , he mused slightly, shaking his head in denial, disappointed with the Potions master. “Professor Snape wouldn’t believe them just because they’re Slytherins and I’m not, would he?” he thought gravely while searching through the tomes on the shelves. “Well, it was their word against mine, after all, and Professor Snape is an honorable man,” he pondered aloud, _and they were three and I was alone_. This train of thoughts relaxed him a little, until he remembered his detention and sighed gravely. 

_I already have a detention and it’s just my first week! What’s mum going to say about that?_ he thought, saddened. “Mum will kill me,” he admitted aloud, and then left for the table where his book bag was, carrying three books with him.

~o0oOo0o~

Professor Snape had taken care of the situation, dismissing the Slytherins and sending the Hufflepuff to his Common Room. He was taking himself out of the library when he heard someone murmuring his name near the potions section. It was the Granger boy.

He stood behind the bookshelf across from the one where Nathan was standing to watch the boy. Nathan was perusing the shelves with a scowl on his face, talking to himself. “Professor Snape wouldn’t believe them just because they’re Slytherins and I’m not, would he?”

_Yes, I would_ , he admitted mentally, with a smirk in his face. But the smirk slowly melted into a surprised expression with the boy’s next words. 

“Well, it was their word against mine, after all, and Professor Snape is an honorable man.”

_What? I’m an honorable man!? Not the greasy git bastard? Not the dangerous Death Eater? Not the cold-blooded murderer?_ He was at a loss for what to think. _Where did this boy get these ideas from?_ he thought then, and his answer came with the next words he heard.

“Mum will kill me.”

_Miss Granger_ , he realized, and the ever-present frown was back on his sallow face.

Snape watched the boy walk back to his table with some books, then he left the library and headed towards the dungeons. He hated remembering that nauseating Gryffindor Golden Trio, and especially Miss Granger. He hated what he had had to do with her back in the war. It was one more thing his conscience tortured him with. The pain was even harder to endure now that he realized what she told her son about him. _Honorable man, Miss Granger?_ he chuckled without mirth at the thought. “Very honorable, indeed,” he added sarcastically to no one in particular.

~o0oOo0o~

The rest of the day went uneventfully. Back in the Great Hall, Nathan met his friends for dinner.

“So, how was your day at the library? I believe all the fresh air and sun did you good,” joked Kevin.

Nathan chuckled at the joke. “You can make fun, all right, just don’t come to me with your sad excuses for essays tomorrow night. I won’t help you,” he said.

“I didn’t say anything, Nathan!” said Andy. “You’ll help me, right?”

“I’ll think about it,” he answered.

Nathan served himself some mashed potato and roast beef. The others were serving themselves as well, when a group of Slytherins passed by their seats, shrieking in mock derision, pointing at Nathan. “It wasn’t me, professor. They were threatening the boy, professor. They’re lying, professor.” They left for their table, laughing. 

“What was that all about?” asked Kevin, eying the Slytherins with suspicion.

“Nothing important,” said Nathan in a nonchalant tone, without lifting his eyes from the plate in front of him. “They’re just mocking me because I got detention over something they did,” he added with a shrug.

“What?” Andy reacted with indignation.

“You’ve got detention!” exclaimed Kevin. “But who gave you detention? And why?”

“Professor Snape gave me detention because I threatened to hex some Slytherins in the library,” Nathan explained with a tone of finality.

“Oh,” Andy reacted. “I’m sorry about that.”

The Gryffindors stared at Nathan in disbelief, but then went back to their food after realizing their friend wasn’t going to say any more. Nathan finished his meal in silence. Glancing at the Head Table, he saw the Potions master talking with the Headmistress. _What will he make me do during detention?_ he mused.

Professor Snape looked out across the Great Hall, caught the boy’s eyes on him, and smirked.

Nathan smirked back for a moment and then stood to leave the Great Hall. He bid his farewells and left, heading back to Gryffindor Tower. 

Professor Snape frowned at the boy’s smirk and kept his eyes on the retreating figure until he disappeared from view. _You might be smirking now, boy! You’ll see the bastard I can be during detention_ , he thought and stood up to leave as well.

~o0oOo0o~

The sunshine broke through the curtains hanging from Nathan’s four-poster bed, waking him up. He swung his legs over the bed, yawning and stretching his arms in a lazy move. Sunday was a lazy day.

Standing up, he went to the bathroom, and looked at his reflection in the mirror, frowning a little. His hair was starting to look greasy at the roots. He brushed his teeth and took a shower.

When he went back to the room, drying his hair with a towel, he found his roommates waking up as well.

“Good morning!” he greeted and received some grunts in response. He smiled at his sleepy friends. “Are you coming to breakfast?”

“Yeah, yeah! We’re coming,” answered Kevin, getting out of bed and leaving for the bathroom. “From someone who just got a detention with the most vicious professor of Hogwarts, you’re really cheerful this morning.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Nathan answered. “I’ll wait you in the common room,” he said, leaving the boys to their morning rituals.

It didn’t take long until he saw his friends coming down the spiral staircase with sleepy faces.

“Come on, it’s Sunday! Cheer up, guys! What are we going to do today?” Nathan said animatedly.

“I was thinking we could start with breakfast and go from there. What do you think?” said Andy.

They left the common room laughing and headed to the Great Hall. There weren’t too many students there yet. Sunday was the perfect day to sleep late, especially at the beginning of the term.

The sun was streaming in through the windows of the Great Hall as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table and served themselves of some breakfast. They were in the middle of their meal when a flock of owls invaded the hall - owl post.

A brownish owl landed on the table in front of Nathan with an envelope tied to its leg. Nathan disentangled the paper and gave the owl some sausage from his plate. The bird took flight once more and left the hall. Nathan opened the letter. It was from his mother.

_**Dear Nathan,** _

_**It’s so good to hear you like Hogwarts and that you’ve made friends already! It took me some time to adapt and I was worried you’d have problems as well. I want to know everything about Kevin and Andy in your next letter.** _

_**I’m glad you’re taking to magic easily, but don’t fool yourself; Charms and Transfiguration are very difficult subjects, and you’ll have to study hard to excel in them. You’ll have to study hard in Potions, too. I know you like it, but Professor Snape is really hard to please, and what’s Outstanding for the other teachers is only Acceptable for him.** _

_Nothing comes easy, I know_ , he thought. The ‘hard work’ speech was well-known by Nathan. His mother constantly reminded him that things never happened without hard work. He continued reading her letter…

_**By the way, I believe when you say you were paying attention to your potion, and I’m sure it was a perfect brew, but if you don’t want to keep losing points during Professor Snape’s class, don’t laugh at him! I know he’s a great teacher, but he can be really nasty when provoked, and you won’t like to be on the receiving end of his nastiness or you’ll be losing more points than you’ll be able to recover with the other teachers. Or worse, you’ll get more detentions than Harry and Ron! I don’t think that’s what you want, right?** _

_Too late, mum_ , he thought with a snort. _I’m already the subject of his ire…and have a detention_. He kept reading…

_**I was sad to know your friends fear Professor Snape for his past. What he did during the war was really important for the Light. I’m glad you stood ground for him, and I want you to keep reminding your friends that he’s a good and honorable man. You don’t have to change their minds, but you must do your part. Respecting him is the least we can do!** _

_Not easy, not easy, mum_ , he thought. He wasn’t happy with what his friends kept saying about Professor Snape’s past, either. He knew the Potions master had helped Harry and saved his mother more than once during the war.

_**The house is really empty without you. I miss you so much! I promise I’ll try not to be so sad. I’ll find something to do during the weekends, don’t worry. Don’t forget to write to me, and if you need anything, just owl me. It doesn’t have to be a Saturday.** _

_**I love you,** _

_**Mum** _

He had a sad smile on his face after finishing his mother’s letter. _I miss you, too, mum_ , he thought. Nathan folded the parchment back into the envelope and pocketed it. He went back to his breakfast and his friends’ conversation, trying not to be homesick.

“Let’s take a walk around the lake,” suggested Kevin when they were all finished eating.

“Sure!” Nathan replied.

“Let’s go, then,” said Andy, standing from his seat. 

And so they left the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like the action? Let me know by leaving a review. :0)
> 
> Nathan’s wand was chosen based on his birthday and magical abilities, as suggested by JKR. I’ll add to that on my LJ. Thanks for reading! :0)
> 
> **Coming next…** Nathan tries his best to be prepared for Professor Snape’s detention.


	6. Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan tries his best to be prepared for Professor Snape’s detention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six, yes! :0) Nathan tries his best to be prepared for Professor Snape’s detention. Will he get out of it alive? :0) Let’s see…
> 
> **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much! Your participation on this one was priceless!

Nathan woke up earlier than usual on Monday. He had letters to take to the Owlery, and he wanted to be prepared for the detention he was to serve with Professor Snape. He had decided to send one letter to his godfather, Harry Potter, and another to Ronald Weasley. His mother had written on her letter that Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron had got many detentions when they were students. They should be able to tell him what to expect from the Potions master.

As soon as he saw the owls depart with his letters he went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He had just enough time to eat before going to the dungeons for double Potions.

Arriving for the class, he entered the cold classroom and took a seat at the same workbench he did last week, right in front of Professor Snape’s desk. Nathan was preparing for the class, taking his book, parchment, quill and bottle of ink from his book-bag when Professor Snape stormed to the front of the classroom and tuned around on his heel to face the class.

Without further word, the Potions master waved his wand and a list of ingredients appeared on the board. Then he addressed the students.

“Today you’ll be brewing a simple Calming Draught. Open your books to page twenty-three and follow the instructions.”

He bypassed his desk, making for the chair, but stopped in his tracks when he realized the students hadn’t started the task and were staring at him. _Well, not all the students_ , he contemplated, rolling his eyes. _At least the Granger boy is working_. “Didn’t you listen to what I said? What are you waiting for? Start working, now!” he admonished.

The class started moving with amazing speed, startling from their trance. Professor Snape finally reached the chair behind his desk and shifted his attention from the frightened students to the pile of seventh-year essays. From time to time he would leave his position to walk around the tables, perusing cauldrons from behind the students’ backs, to their utter terror.

“Do you know what a cube is, Miss Parks?” he asked in that cold voice of his.

“Y-Yes, sir,” hesitated Josephina.

“Then what part of ‘cut the Ginger Roots into cubes’ didn’t you understand?” he inquired. “Start over, Miss Parks!”

Cauldron after cauldron, student after student, Professor Snape spilled his venom, taking points from Gryffindor. When he reached Nathan’s desk, he eyed the potion only to see it was the perfect purple shade. The boy was talented; he could admit it, but not aloud.

“Too thick, Mr. Granger. Next time, do try to stir the correct number of times,” he felt himself obliged to say, though the consistency of the potion wasn’t that far from expected.

Nathan looked up at this and met Snape’s eyes. For a moment they just stared at each other, until the boy rolled his eyes; Professor Snape narrowed his own but said nothing. He finished his frightening round and went back to grading essays.

The students finished their potions and bottled their samples before leaving the dungeon classroom. Nathan was collecting his things when the Potions master called his name from the desk at the front of the room.

“Mr. Granger, meet me in this classroom at seven on Wednesday for your detention,” he said and then added, “I won’t tolerate tardiness.”

“Yes, sir,” was his answer, and then Nathan left, trying to catch up with the others who were heading to the Defense class.

~o0oOo0o~

The next morning found Nathan in the Great Hall eating breakfast when a number of owls invaded the bewitched ceiling of the room. Two birds descended towards him; they carried the answers from the letters he had sent the day before to Harry and Ron.

He disentangled the parchments from the birds’ legs and they left the table, flying away from the hall through the high windows. Nathan started opening the first letter - Ron’s. It read:

_**Hey Nathan,** _

_**Good to hear from you. I just hoped it could have been under better circumstances. So, detention with Snape! I can’t blame you. I know how much of a bastard he can be. (Don’t tell your mother I’m writing such things).**_

Nathan rolled his eyes at Ron’s observation and continued reading…

_**Now, answering your question, I believe he’ll make you clean up nasty cauldrons for the night - without magic! Terrible, I know, but believe me when I say it could be worse. Now, good luck, boy, and do try to avoid getting into trouble around Snape. He can make your life a living hell, just like he did ours.** _

_**Have I congratulated you for being a Gryffindor? I think not, so congratulations!** _

_**Regards,** _

_**Ron Weasley** _

_Clean cauldrons the Muggle way. So, that’s it?_ he contemplated after reading Ron’s response. _Maybe Uncle Harry has something else to say_ , he thought, opening the second letter.

_**Dear Nathan,** _

_**It’s good to hear from you. I’m happy you’re getting along so well with your classmates.** _

_**Why did you get detention with Snape? Write, telling me the whole story, will you? If he’s being his old nasty self with you, just like he was with your mother and I, let me know, and he’ll hear from me.** _

_Why? Does he think I can’t handle Professor Snape?_ he mused at his godfather’s words.

_**Now, if he didn’t change his style - and I don’t think he would have - he’ll probably make you scrub filthy cauldrons until you can see your reflection on their ends. His other favorite sadistic sport is making students prepare nasty ingredients, like extracting pus from Bubotubers or something. I think he’ll choose the first one, though, as you’re a first-year.** _

_**I hope I have been some help. If Snape starts giving you detentions for no reason at all just tell me, okay? He’ll answer to me.** _

_**Love,** _

_**Harry** _

_Well, Bubotuber pus or filthy cauldrons. It’s gonna be a delightful evening_ , Nathan lamented sarcastically. 

“Who are the letters from?” he heard Andy ask.

“Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron,” he answered.

“A letter from Harry Potter?” asked Kevin, suddenly losing his interest in his breakfast to hear what his friend’s famous _uncle_ had to say.

“Yes, I wrote to them to ask about Professor Snape’s detention.”

“And what did they say?” asked Andy.

“Well, they think I’ll have to scrub filthy cauldrons the whole night,” Nathan sighed.

“Scrub? Like, without magic?” asked an outraged Kevin.

“That’s what they say,” Nathan confirmed, resignation in his voice.

“Well, do remind me never to get in trouble with Professor Snape, will you?” the boy commented and went back to his plate.

Nathan sighed again and resumed his meal as well. By tomorrow night he would be prepared for his detention.

~o0oOo0o~

Wednesday at seven, Professor Snape heard a tap on his classroom door.

“Enter,” he said.

“Good evening, Professor,” the boy entering the room greeted. He didn’t bother to acknowledge, instead pointing with a sharp incline of his head to two filthy cauldrons on a workbench near his desk, where he sat with a book in his hands.

“Clean them until you can see your reflection,” he said with his velvet voice. With a smirk, he added, “without magic.”

Nathan said nothing, just reached for the brush and started scrubbing. The boy remained quiet while he cleaned the first cauldron. When he was starting the second, he spoke. “Why did you assign me detention, sir?”

_Why did I assign him detention? What kind of question is that?_ he thought. “I thought you were smarter than that,” he answered. The boy was still looking at him so he rolled his eyes and added, “You were attempting to hex another student, Mr. Granger. You even admitted the intention. Now, go back to work! I don’t have the whole night.”

But the boy didn’t comply. _Wasn’t I clear?_ Snape thought.

“Why didn’t you assign detention to the other boys, too? They were threatening the Hufflepuff,” Nathan said.

He furrowed his eyebrows together at this. _Is he questioning my judgment?_

“Five points from Gryffindor for disrespect, Mr. Granger. Now, go back to work! I won’t tell you again,” he said between gritted teeth.

“I will, sir,” defied Nathan. “I just want to understand why you’re always picking on Gryffindors and never on Slytherins. Why don’t you ever take points from them?”

That did it. Snape was on his feet and, in two long steps, was mere inches from Nathan, towering over him. The boy didn’t flinch and met the professor’s glare with an inquiring eyebrow. This made Professor Snape growl.

“I won’t tolerate this, boy. You show no respect! You’re here to scrub cauldrons because you deserved it. Now, stop testing my patience and start cleaning this cauldron. NOW!”

This time the boy obeyed, and Snape went back to his book. Nathan cleaned the second cauldron in silence. When he finished, Nathan approached the professor’s desk. Without taking his eyes from the book, the Potions master said, “Out!”

The boy didn’t move. Snape ignored him for a while and then sighed heavily. _What does the boy want now? He’s even worst than his mother!_ Lifting his head, he glared at the boy and said with more force, “Are you deaf? I said out!”

“Professor,” Nathan started, “I didn’t mean to disrespect you with my questions. I’m sorry.”

_He’s… apologizing?_ he thought, though his expression showed no surprise at Nathan’s words.

“My mother told me you had to favor the Slytherins back when she was a student because of the war,” the boy continued. “I was just trying to understand why you do so now as well,” he finished. “I’m sorry, anyway.”

The mention of Miss Granger annoyed him. He remembered the boy’s words in the library about him being honorable and it just served to irritate him more. _I’ll stop this nonsense right now!_ he thought.

“I don’t know what your mother told you about me, but I assure you she doesn’t know me as well as she may think. I don’t have to explain my actions now or then to anyone. Not to you, not to your mother, not to anyone!” He was livid. “Now, get out of my classroom!” he growled.

Staring at the angry Potions master for a moment, Nathan could do nothing but obey. He turned on his heel and went to the door that led to the dungeon corridor. _He never answered my question_ , he mused. _Maybe if I really earnt house points he would award me with them. Maybe I’m not doing enough to earn them. Mum was right! Professor Snape is a difficult man to please._

Reaching the door, he turned and glanced the man’s way. With the challenge of proving he was worthy of his teachers praise, Nathan said, “Good night, Professor Snape,” and left for Gryffindor Tower. He didn’t want to believe the Potions master was unfair, favoring his own house above the others. He just had to prove it!

The man left alone inside the classroom had now lost his interest in the book he was reading. Severus was deep in thought over the things the boy had said. _Why am I still favoring the Slytherins above all others? It’s not like I need to anymore. Why do I do it, then?_ he thought before regaining control of his own mind. _Because that’s how it is! Because you are Professor Snape, the greasy git Head of Slytherin and that’s what you do!_ he countered, frowning at himself.

Snape sighed. He hadn’t been concerned with these matters since… ever. _Why I am doing it now?_ he mused. “Granger,” he said between gritted teeth. He closed the book with force, stood up, and left the classroom heading for his quarters. 

Even as Snape strode the corridors, he couldn’t stop thinking about Nathan’s questions. Try as he might, he couldn’t see reason in his actions. He’d never before felt the need to justify his unequal treatment of his own House, - even to Dumbledore, who turned a blind eye, knowing his precarious position. Now, though... he had no answer for his continued bias beyond, _that’s what I do because that’s what I’ve always done_. Somehow, that didn’t seem adequate reason anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Nathan survived! :0) Did you like the chapter? Do you want to comment on anything? Do you feel like asking me something? Just leave me a review, then.
> 
> **Coming next…** Nathan is after some house points from none other than Professor Snape.


	7. Wanted Points

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan is after some house points from none other than Professor Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Seven! :0) Nathan is after some house points from none other than Professor Snape. Well, at least he has a plan. :0)
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

Nathan spent the weeks following his detention observing the Potions master’s attitude during class. He kept notes of every point Professor Snape awarded or took. The corners of his book and parchment sheets were full of numbers, names, a _G_ or _S_ and words such as _right answer_ , _bad chopping_ , _good brew_ and _cauldron explosion_. He had notes for at least three weeks worth of Potions classes. The same kind of notes were all over his Defense texts as well. He was similarly observing Professor Lupin, Head of Gryffindor House, for comparison matters.

Now, Nathan sat at a table in the common room near where Kevin and Andy were playing wizards chess. He flipped through his books and classroom notes, organizing the information he’d collected into a _Points Chart_ , when Kevin, while waiting for Andy’s move in their game, interrupted his work, “What are you so caught up with, Nathan? You’re going through the pages of these books like crazy, taking notes. You can’t be studying at this rate,” he stated.

“I’m not studying,” Nathan answered, filling yet another line of the _Points Chart_. “It’s some independent research I’m working on,” he added, without taking his eyes from the parchments on the table. 

That caught Andy’s attention. “What? You’re working on independent research along with all the homework we’ve been assigned?” he said, shaking his head lightly. “You should try chess some day, Nathan,” he added, contemplating the board for his chances after Kevin’s last move.

“Yes, you could play a match with me after I finish with Andy!” Kevin added with a playful smile. “He’ll not last long, anyway.”

“I appreciate the invitation, but chess is not my game,” Nathan answered while turning the pages of his Potions book until he found another side-note to add to the chart.

“What are you researching, anyway?” asked Andy, after moving a reluctant bishop into battle with the opponent’s knight.

“I’m evaluating the differences between Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s Heads of House behavior concerning house points,” Nathan stated, and was rewarded with an arched brow by Andy while Kevin snorted in amusement.

“You’re a weird guy, Nathan. What would you gain from such research? House points?” asked Kevin, sarcastically.

“In fact, that’s exactly what I’m expecting,” replied Nathan, “I’m trying to understand what Professor Snape most awards points for and doing the same with Professor Lupin. That way I’ll be able to come with a plan of action to make both of them award Gryffindor as many points as possible,” he explained matter-of-factly.

“That’s a great idea!” said Andy enthusiastically, “We can make the Slytherins lose as many points as we win, too, and take the lead in the House Cup!” he added with a mischievous grin.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Nathan dismissively, “as soon as I finish the _Points Chart_ ,” he added, letting his annoyance with the interruptions show in his voice.

The two boys went back to their game and Nathan to his chart. He wasn’t telling them all the reasons for his research on these particular professors, though. _I’ll prove he doesn’t award points only to Slytherins_ , he thought.

An hour later found Kevin and Andy engaged in a game of Exploding Snap with Josephina and her best friend, Anna. Nathan was finishing his _Points Chart_ , seated at the same table. “I’m done!” he stated. All he had to do now was add a totaling line at the end of the chart and analyze the results. 

And so he did. Taking his wand and pointing it to the parchment he uttered, “Totalus,” and frowned at the result. _Professor Snape didn’t award any points to Gryffindor_ , he acknowledged mentally, _and it’s not a common behavior of Heads of House, because Professor Lupin awards points to Slytherin, so…_

“What’s wrong, Nathan?” asked Kevin, seeing his friend’s distress.

“I need more information,” Nathan said, not wanting to believe his conclusions. _It must be a coincidence_. Taking another careful look at the _Points Chart_ , analyzing the specifics of each awarded point, Nathan realized Professor Snape prized good potions and correct answers the most. _Well, the Gryffindors aren’t the best brewers of the class_ , he admitted mentally, _and they’re too afraid of him to volunteer answers to his questions_. He wasn’t a volunteer himself, and it was a crucial matter on the points awarded. You had to volunteer to answer the questions.

The good potions points were another matter. Nathan was an excellent brewer and his potions were always perfect. That was a disturbing conclusion. _Does he have something against me? Is it me, then?_ The thought saddened Nathan. _Maybe it’s because of my mother_ , he thought reluctantly to himself. 

He wanted to dismiss that line of thought, so he needed more information. The Potions master couldn’t be treating him differently because of things that had happened more than a decade ago. Professor Snape hated Harry, and Ron and his mother for being Harry’s friends. _He doesn’t hate me, does he?_ Nathan shook his head. _I need more information before I can conclude anything._

Nathan collected his papers and books from the table at which he’d been working. He needed to talk with someone who had known Professor Snape for more than a month. Nathan looked around the full common room and rested his eyes on a group of seventh-years seated near the fireplace. _The Head Boy!_ he thought enthusiastically. _He’s perfect! He’s a good student, disciplined. He’ll know!_

Approaching the seventh-year students, Nathan called, “Mr. Cornwell, do you have a minute?”

The Head Boy looked up to find the first-year. “Is it something wrong, Mr. Granger?” he asked Nathan.

“No, I just have some questions, if you don’t mind,” he answered. 

The older boy excused himself from his friends and gave Nathan his undivided attention. “Very well, Mr. Granger, what is it that you want to ask?”

“I wanted to know if you have ever won any house points from Professor Snape,” Nathan said, not wanting to waste the Head Boy’s time with small talk. 

“Professor Snape?” Cornwell asked, surprised by the boy’s question.

“Snape doesn’t give Gryffindors house points,” another seventh-year, who was listening to the conversation, answered. “He only gives points to Slytherin, the git!”

“Pretend you have some respect for Professor Snape, please,” admonished the Head Boy.

“Is it true?” asked Nathan, wanting Cornwell’s confirmation of the boy’s accusations.

“Yes, it’s true. Professor Snape is very hard to please,” the older boy answered.

“And he’s a greasy git who hates Gryffindors,” added the other seventh-year.

Nathan would have intervened with the boy’s slander of the Potions professor if the revelations hadn’t affected him so deeply. _So, it’s true. Professor Snape favors Slytherins._ He couldn’t avoid the melancholia that hit him. Nathan was very disappointed with Professor Snape, the man his mother was always adamant was so honorable and deserving of people’s respect.

Thanking the seventh-years, Nathan went back to the table his book bag was resting on and left the common room for the boys’ dormitory. He prepared himself to sleep but felt he couldn’t. His mind was racing with thoughts, but before he finally fell asleep his expression wasn’t a sad, disappointed one anymore, but one alight with hope.

~o0oOo0o~

Next Monday morning, Nathan entered the Great Hall for breakfast with confidence. He had worked through the weekend and had a plan he was sure would make Professor Snape give him house points. His fellow Gryffindors just didn’t know how to do it; that was the conclusion he had got after analyzing the _Points Chart_ over and over.

He’d start with the first phase of his plan today. He’d volunteer to answer the questions. He’d read the text book for the lesson twice, as well as some additional texts he’d found in the library. He was prepared and he knew it.

He ate his breakfast, chatting animatedly with his friends. He glanced once in a while in the direction of the High Table, meeting a mirror of his dark eyes glancing back at him. Snape was scowling, of course, but that was his normal behavior.

The Gryffindors walked their way through the dungeon halls; the Potions classroom was cold, despite the mild temperature outside. Nathan took his usual seat and prepared himself for the class, and Professor Snape arrived a few minutes later, sliding his tall figure towards the front of the room with his black robes billowing after him.

The lecture started and with that the Potions master’s questions. Nathan had his hand up on every single one, providing precise answers that would make his mother proud; yet it seemed not to be enough for Professor Snape.

“Adequate, Mr. Granger,” was the most positive appreciation Nathan got from the Potions master. 

At the end of the class, Professor Snape was beyond annoyed with Nathan. 

“Can anyone tell me why I should not combine these two substances?” the professor asked.

Nathan’s hand was in the air as soon as his teacher finished the question.

“Anyone?” insisted Snape.

Nathan was almost on his feet by then. Professor Snape had his jaw closed tightly and his fists clenching alongside his body. He hissed, “The resident know-it-all seems to know the answer; do enlighten us, Mr. Granger.”

Nathan was taken aback by the Potions master’s tone and the potency of his venomous glare, but answered firmly, “They are a base and an acid, respectively. Combined, they’ll form a salt and the side-product would be water, which would ruin the potion at this point of the brewing.”

The boy was confident. That was a perfect answer, and it couldn’t be found in the assigned text book. He only knew the information because he had been working with other books, too. Nathan watched his teacher expectantly. _This one deserves at least five points_ , he thought.

“Correct… but incomplete,” was Professor Snape’s comment.

 _Incomplete! Incomplete!_ The disappointment was written on Nathan’s face. He let his weight fall back on his stool and just stared at the Potions master in disbelief. _Incomplete_.

The class was dismissed shortly after that, and Nathan took himself out of the dungeon classroom accompanied by his classmates. Andy was close beside him while they headed for the Defense class.

“Where did you learn all that, Nathan?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Nathan answered acidly. “Professor Snape didn’t give me a single point for all the questions I answered.” He threw his hands up in front of him in a gesture of disappointment.

“That’s okay, Nathan,” said Kevin, patting him on the shoulder, “he’s just a greasy git who hates Gryffindors. You weren’t less brilliant because of that. Did you see Malfoy’s face? Not a hundred points would be worth more than the expression on that Slytherin’s faces,” he added, grinning.

“Yeah, that was priceless!” agreed Andy, patting Nathan on his other shoulder.

That helped a little, Nathan had to admit. His friends were trying to make him feel better and that was great, and although it worked on the surface, deep down inside he was hurting. Professor Snape was unfair and hated Gryffindors. _Or he hates only me_. He sighed inwardly at the thought. They were just entering the Defense classroom when he decided to let it go for the moment and concentrate on his other classes.

~o0oOo0o~

Professor Snape entered his classroom prepared for another annoying first-year Gryffindor and Slytherin double class. The potion he had assigned for today wasn’t easy for their level of skills, and he expected at least one cauldron explosion.

He reached the front of the room and started lecturing. Asking his first question, he didn’t bother to look at the Granger boy to see if he had his hand up to answer; he chose the first Slytherin who waved his hand instead. Another question, and now he glanced the boy’s way to smirk at him while choosing another student to answer, but realized the Granger boy didn’t have his hand up at all. 

That intrigued him. Last class, Granger was so annoying Snape was reminded of the boy’s mother, the insufferable know-it-all. And then today Mr. Granger was back to the way he was at the beginning of the term, self-absorbed and contained.

He asked another question, more difficult than the previous one, trying to instigate the boy to volunteer an answer, but got nothing. Not containing himself anymore, he approached the boy and paused in front of him with a smirk forming on his face and said, “What happened, Mr. Granger? Didn’t read the chapter today? And I thought you were a know-it-all, just like your mother.”

 _There! Let’s see what you’re made of, little Granger_ , he thought, still smirking.

“I know the answers, sir, I just didn’t think you want me to give them. You seemed a little annoyed with me last class,” Nathan answered frankly. 

Snape was so surprised with the boy’s sincerity that it showed on his face for a moment until he was able to control himself again, regaining his blank outward demeanor that betrayed no emotions. The fact that the Granger boy could unsettle him was annoying, and with pinched eyebrows, he said, “Five points from Gryffindor for your impertinence, Mr. Granger.”

Somewhat recovered after the points lashing, Snape turned his attention back to the class and waved his wand, making the instructions for the potion appear on the board. He instructed the class to start brewing and sat back at his desk to grade some papers, never leaving the class unattended. This potion could be especially disastrous when brewed by dunderheads, and he wasn’t going to take any risks.

From time to time, he would leave his desk to walk between the workstations, perusing the cauldrons. After taking some points here and there, he reached Granger’s cauldron. _The potion is… perfect_ , he dared admit to himself. The boy was at a more advanced stage than his classmates; he was at a particularly delicate stage of the brew, actually. Snape looked the boy’s hands chopping, slicing and measuring the ingredients, and was impressed with his ability. _His movements are very precise and fluid_ , he thought, mesmerized by Nathan’s graceful movements.

When he tried to take Nathan’s attention from the potion, he realized how concentrated on the task the boy was. _The boy is really talented!_ he caught himself thinking. He went back to his desk and his papers, but every once in a while he would spend a few minutes observing the boy work. He was now officially intrigued by Nathan Granger. The boy acted so differently from class to class; he was definitely and officially a mystery.

Some time later, Nathan stirred his cauldron clock-wise one last time. _Perfect!_ he thought with a smile. He had finished brewing and was really satisfied with the resulting liquid laying inside the cauldron. He bottled a sample and cleaned his workbench. Just then he looked around him and realized he was the first to finish the potion. _Great! I’m the first to finish and the brew is perfect!_ he thought, eyeing the bottle carrying his sample proudly.

He took the vial and walked to the desk where Professor Snape sat grading papers. The Potions master looked up from his work and started to say, “What are you doing out of your…” but stopped after catching sight of the bottle on Nathan’s hand.

“I’ve finished, Professor,” Nathan said, leaving the bottle on the desk. He hovered a little before heading back to his stool. He wanted to know what Professor Snape thought of his potion. 

The Potions master looked at Nathan, at the bottle and then back to the papers he was grading. “You’re free to go, Mr. Granger,” was the only thing he said.

 _He’s dismissing me! What about the potion? It’s perfect and he’s not going to say anything!_ Nathan sat there in astonishment. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts before leaving the classroom with long strides, slamming the door after him. He was furious!

He strode through the dungeons, not even noticing his surroundings. His head was still in the Potions classroom. He passed by Professor Lupin, who noticed something was amiss.

“Nathan, is something wrong? Shouldn’t you be in Potions right now?” asked Professor Lupin.

“I was dismissed, sir,” said Nathan. Lupin could see the boy was livid.

“Well, I never saw a student so angry for being dismissed from Professor Snape’s class before. Did you explode your cauldron or something?” asked Lupin, observing the boy with interest.

“No! I just finished my potion earlier than everyone else and he dismissed me,” Nathan stated in a way that left Professor Lupin no doubt he was annoyed with the Potions master. He couldn’t think of a motive for this annoyance, though. He started walking towards his classroom and the boy, still lost in his thoughts, followed.

“And it’s a bad thing because…” Lupin trailed out, wanting the boy to explain.

“My potion was perfect and he didn’t say anything! He just… dismissed me!” Nathan said, throwing his hands in the air to show his irritation over Professor Snape’s actions.

The Head of Gryffindor had a knowing look on his face when he said, “And you were waiting some recognition for your good work, right?” Lupin was used to it by now. Every year he had one or two Gryffindors angry with Snape for his lack of recognition of true talent.

“Well, yeah! My potion was perfect! It was worthy of at least five points to Gryffindor!” answered Nathan, indignation clear in his tone of voice, his black eyes shining with the strength of his emotions. He was really pissed off!

Professor Lupin smiled at the boy. “Nathan, you have to understand that Professor Snape is not the kind of teacher who distributes points to Gryffindor. However, it doesn’t mean he didn’t appreciate your good work in the classroom.”

“But why? Is it because he’s Head of Slytherin?” asked Nathan. “You’re Head of Gryffindor and you give points to all houses, including Slytherin,” he added. 

“That’s true, Nathan, but you’ve got to understand that Professor Snape thinks differently than I do. He believes Gryffindors work harder when they are challenged, while Slytherins need recognition,” the Defense professor explained.

Nathan snorted. “Do you think he’s right, sir?” he asked, shaking his head in amusement. 

“Well, I don’t use that specific technique, but I can’t deny it works fairly well on his classes. He’s been teaching for a long time, Nathan. His class can be dangerous sometimes, and he has to be in control or something pretty bad can happen,” Professor Lupin said seriously.

Nathan was silent, absorbing the information. It made sense.

Lupin, seeing Nathan was taking his words, continued, “You shouldn’t be disappointed if Professor Snape didn’t award you house points, he’ll praise your good work in other ways. I believe the fact that he dismissed you earlier today is one of them.”

That statement got a lifted eyebrow from Nathan. “And how is that?” he asked curiously.

“Professor Snape could have made you stay for the rest of the class and asked you to write an essay or something, but he decided to dismiss you. It’s not a common practice coming from him, Nathan. I’m almost convinced that it’s equivalent to ten points,” Lupin said with a smile.

Nathan responded with a smile of his own. Professor Lupin was right: the Potions master could have given him more homework or something. That calmed him a little.

They were in front of the Defense classroom by now. Nathan took a seat and reached for a book to read before the class started. Professor Lupin left the boy to it and entered his office, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, every person that leaves a review will be awarded with a hundred points to your House (so don’t forget to write your House name on your review)! Well, as soon as I convince Professor Snape, of course. :0) 
> 
> Now, even if Snape doesn’t give your House the points, I’ll be answering your review.
> 
>  **Coming next…** Someone covers for Lupin during the full moon and something is happening in the Forbidden Forest.


	8. Forbidden Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone covers for Lupin during the full moon, and something is happening in the Forbidden Forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eight, already? :0) Someone covers for Lupin during the full moon, and something is happening in the Forbidden Forest. What, now? Let’s find out…
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

Hermione Apparated out of her apartment as the end of the morning was approaching. She wanted to stop by her office before meeting Harry and Ginny for lunch. Hermione had some data to collect at the Muggle university where she worked as a professor and researcher. Even on a Saturday, the grounds of the campus were filled with young students enjoying the nice day, reading, playing or just hanging out.

She crossed the grounds from the hidden place she used for Apparition and entered the Chemistry Building, heading for her laboratory. The image of the students under the trees reminded her of the weekends at Hogwarts. She always liked the atmosphere of the castle, especially the grounds - the lake, the trees, the gardens.

She walked through the corridors of the university, but her mind was on the corridors of the castle where she had lived for almost seven years, and on Nathan, too. She received a letter from him earlier that morning, and again the main topic was Severus Snape. She was starting to get worried about Nathan’s interest in Severus. Of course, her intentions were for Nathan not to hate his father, but she didn’t think Nathan would get so… so obsessed with him. That was the word: obsessed.

Nathan was always devoted to everything he puts his heart to. His favorite subject while he was still at Muggle school was chemistry, so it was only logical he would like Potions so much. He used to help Hermione to prepare some simple potions at home, and she could see Nathan was talented for the art, even then. Maybe that was just it, an aptitude for Potions.

Her mind went back to data collection when she reached the laboratory. She took some notes, increased the hydrogen pressure of the complex system on the workbench, and when she was sure everything was fine, left the building to Apparate again. It was now time to meet her friends.

Arriving at the backyard of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, Hermione found young Lily on her broom. “Hello, Lily. I see you’re practicing your Quidditch maneuvers. Very good!” she praised.

“Thanks, Aunt ‘Mione,” the girl yelled from her position up in the sky.

Hermione entered the house through the kitchen door and met Ginny, who greeted her with a hug, “Hermione! You arrived already!”

“Hi, Ginny. I’m a little early, I know. I had to stop by the university before coming here and I guess I overestimated the time I would spend there. Is Harry home already?” Hermione inquired.

“Yes, he just arrived. He’s with Ron in the Drawing Room,” Ginny offered and, after giving some other instructions to Dobby, led Hermione from the kitchen to meet Harry and her brother.

The women entered the room and were greeted enthusiastically by the men. “Oy, ‘Mione! I thought I wouldn’t see the day you’d visit us again,” Ron said, hugging her.

Harry came next. “She will come more often now that Nathan is in the Wizarding world, right, ‘Mione?” he said, hugging her as well.

They sat on the couch and chairs near the fireplace and Hermione answered, “You’re probably right, Harry. Now that Nathan is at Hogwarts I think I should be more involved with the Wizarding world again.”

“Good, because I was just convincing Harry here to come to my next Quidditch match,” Ron said, and the animated conversation filled the room until Dobby announced that lunch was ready.

Hermione helped Ginny with the kids and they were soon eating in the basement kitchen. They talked about the many activities they were involved with until Harry commented on a case of contaminated potion he was working last week. That brought the topic of the hated Potions master into the conversation. “Are you sure Snape wasn’t involved?” Ron teased Harry, who glared.

“He was among my suspects,” Harry answered with a smirk and everybody started laughing, but Hermione.

“Talking about Snape, how did Nathan go with his detention?” Ron asked Hermione.

“What detention?” she asked back.

“Oops! I guess you just got Nathan into trouble, Ron,” Harry said.

“What detention?” asked Hermione again, eying both men in turn.

“Well…” hesitated Ron and then added under Hermione’s deadly glare, “Nathan served a detention with Snape. I thought you knew.”

“When? What for?” Hermione kept asking, now very irritated with Nathan, the Potions master, and the two men at the table as well. “How do you know of it when I don’t?” she asked, now with a pained expression. _Why would Nathan hide this from me? What else is he hiding?_ Her mind was rushing with doubts.

“Take it easy, ‘Mione. It’s nothing like the things we received detentions for, I’m sure. We just found out because Nathan owled us asking what Snape’s detentions were like. It’s been a while now, so just calm down,” Harry assured her.

“When?” Hermione asked again, in a more controlled tone of voice this time.

“Second week,” Ron answered, without a second thought.

“What?” exclaimed Hermione, losing the little control she’d managed before. “He got into trouble after just a week there! What on earth did he do?” She was almost screaming in her indignation and rage now.

“Calm down, Hermione,” Harry tried again, glaring at Ron.

“You’re overreacting, ‘Mione. Harry and I served detention in our first week one year - if you remember the flying car incident - and we were never expelled,” Ron said between bites, ignoring Hermione’s reaction to his words, and added, “It was probably Snape trying to make the life of a Gryffindor miserable, and it just happened to be Nathan’s this time.”

“Ron is probably right, Hermione,” Ginny agreed.

“Why would Nathan hide this from me, then?” Hermione inquired with that pained look again. “What did he do, anyway? It must have been something really wrong, if he didn’t even bother telling me - his mother!” she added.

“It’s nothing of the sorts, Hermione. He must have said something Snape didn’t like, and you know how nasty the bastard is,” Harry said with a pointed look.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Hermione said shaking her head in refutation. “I thought Nathan was getting along with Professor Snape. He seems to even like his classes,” she commented, and added as an afterthought, “Maybe he likes it too much for his own good. Nathan is always writing about Professor Snape’s classes and assignments. I just thought it was because he likes Potions so much, but now…” she broke off, shaking her head again.

She wasn’t sure of anything, anymore. Nathan wasn’t telling her everything, and it was a disturbing revelation. _What if Severus discovered the truth about Nathan and didn’t look for me? And what if he told Nathan of it and Nathan was hiding it from me? What if Nathan discovers somehow that Severus is his father?_ Her mind was filling her heart with uncertainties. Her desire was to leave everyone here and race to Hogwarts. She needed to know what was going on there!

The lunch came to an end and they adjourned once again to the Drawing Room, but Hermione kept her mind with the two men of her life, back at Hogwarts: Nathan and Severus. Harry brought her mind back, realizing she wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. “Hermione, you shouldn’t be so worried about the detention.”

“It’s not the detention that’s making me worried, Harry,” she admitted with a sigh. “It’s the fact that my son is hiding things from me that is making me worry. He knows he can trust me. We have a very open relationship, at least I thought we did, but now…” she broke off.

“He probably didn’t tell you because he knew you would be disappointed. I don’t think he would hide things from you, Hermione, if they were important,” said Harry, patting her on the shoulder.

“You’re right, Harry. I’m just overreacting. We’ve never lived apart before, and not knowing every single detail of his life is hard for me,” she admitted, revealing only part of her feelings. She wasn’t going to say a word about Severus.

“It’s all right, Hermione. I think I can understand what you’re feeling. I don’t know how I’ll react when Lily and Sirius leave for Hogwarts as well,” Harry said sympathetically, and added, “Let me tell you this: I’ll be at Hogwarts to cover for Remus, and I promise I’ll clear up this whole detention thing and tell you everything afterwards. What do you say?”

“Thank you, Harry. I’d appreciate that,” Hermione answered with a sad smile, and then frowned, adding, “Please tell Nathan that he’ll have to answer to me for that omission, will you?”

“I will,” Harry assured her.

~o0oOo0o~

The full moon was approaching and it was time for another Defense substitute professor to appear at Hogwarts. True to the student’s predictions, Headmistress McGonagall stood from her seat during dinner and announced, “As you can see, Professor Lupin is indisposed. He’ll be back after the full moon, but until then the Gryffindors may come to me if in need of their Head of House, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes will be covered by Mr. Harry Potter.”

That piece of information brought some noise back to the Great Hall. At every table, students turned to each other to comment on the famous wizard with excitement. Nathan was happy about the news that his godfather would be at Hogwarts, of course, but his reaction didn’t compare to the boys and girls around him. The Gryffindors were cheering wildly.

Professor Snape was rolling his eyes at the excitement of the students. Every year it was the same. It just took an announcement that Harry bloody Potter would be coming to Hogwarts for the students to show the full power of their hormones, even his Slytherins. But the worst were the Gryffindors.

At lunch the next day, Harry Potter entered the Great Hall through a side door accompanied by Headmistress McGonagall, chatting animatedly. He took the seat at her left and tried to ignore the excitement of the students over his presence. Severus was already occupying the place at Professor McGonagall’s right, as usual, when they arrived.

“Won’t you greet your fans, Potter?” Snape said sarcastically, “I’m sure they would be delighted with a wave from the hero.”

“If you want to see the students cheering, Snape, maybe I should take you with me to the Ministry so I can change their minds and put you in Azkaban. I’m sure the students would celebrate for a week,” Harry retorted.

“Enough! Stop this nonsense right now!” McGonagall said from between them, “I won’t tolerate you sniping at each other for the duration of Mr. Potter’s stay.”

They were still glaring daggers at each other but said nothing else. Harry took his eyes from the Potions master to take in the hall. As always, the students were looking at him with admiration and, after that exchange with Snape, curiosity as well. Harry found Nathan in the sea of Gryffindors and beamed at him. Nathan beamed back and both started eating.

Lunch was over but the Great Hall was still crowded. Even on a nice Sunday, the students didn’t want to leave before Harry Potter. Every once in a while they eyed the Chosen One, until Harry got up from his chair to leave. He didn’t take the side door, though. He descended the platform on which the Head Table stood and crossed the room towards the Gryffindor table.

He stopped by Nathan and put a hand on his godson’s shoulder, “How are you, Nathan? Everything all right?” he asked.

“Everything is fine, Uncle Harry. I’m glad you’re here,” Nathan answered with a smile.

Nathan jerked when an elbow hit him on the left side of his rib; it was Kevin. Harry smiled.

“Uncle Harry, these are my friends Kevin Brown and Andy Wood. They’ve been driveling over their meals since you arrived,” Nathan said, glaring over said friends. Harry laughed.

“Nice to meet you, boys,” Harry said, still smiling, “Are you related to Oliver Wood, Andy?”

“Do you remember my father?” Andy asked in awe.

“Of course I do. He was captain of the Quidditch Team when I joined,” Harry said.

“I know! My father told me everything about it,” Andy said.

“Well, send him my best,” Harry said and then, taking his attention back to Nathan, said, “I was thinking you might like to join me and Hagrid for some tea later.”

“Sure. What time?” Nathan asked.

“At three, at the Entrance Hall?” Harry asked.

“Okay,” Nathan agreed.

“See you then,” Harry said, squeezing Nathan’s shoulder in a show of affection. “See you in class tomorrow,” he added to the other boys and left.

“Harry Potter remembers my father. How cool is that?” Andy said. Nathan rolled his eyes at his cheerful friends. They left the Great Hall shortly after Harry and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan met Hagrid by the Entrance Hall at the appointed time. Harry wasn’t there yet. He greeted the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, “Hi, Hagrid.”

“’Ello, Nathan. Are yeh comin’ for tea as well?” the half-giant asked with a smile.

“Yes, Uncle Harry invited me,” Nathan answered.

At that moment, Professor Snape entered the hall, coming from the dungeons, and headed to where they were waiting for Harry.

“Good afternoon, Hagrid,” Snape greeted. “I’m in need of your services. My supply of unicorn hair has run out and I’ll need it refilled for my classes this week,” Snape said, totally ignoring Nathan’s presence.

“Sure, Prof’ssor Snape. I’ll get yeh some tomorrow evening,” Hagrid answered.

“That will be too late for tomorrow morning’s classes. Can’t you fetch some tonight?” Professor Snape insisted.

“I’m sorry, Prof’ssor, but I have some school business to run in London,” Hagrid said.

“Well, I’ll just change the schedule of tomorrow’s classes, then,” Snape said and with a slight inclination of his head, left the hall for the dungeons just as Harry arrived.

“Hey, Nathan, Hagrid,” he greeted. “Sorry I’m late. Minerva kept me a little longer than I expected,” he added. 

“No problem, Harry,” the half-giant assured him, and they left for the castle grounds and Hagrid’s Hut.

~o0oOo0o~

“How was tea with Harry Potter?” Josephina asked as soon as Nathan entered the common room. Everybody in the room turned their attention to him at that.

Nathan paused and then, with a frown, answered, “It was okay, not that it concerns any of you.” His glare made the staring Gryffindors go back to their business. Even as a first-year, Nathan was respected among his Gryffindor fellows for his connections with the Golden Trio; he was the famous Hermione Granger’s son, after all. Nathan spotted his friends in a corner of the room and went to join them.

“Hey, Nathan. You’ll tell us, right?” Andy asked.

“Of course he will, Andy. We’re his best friends, right, Nathan?” Kevin completed.

“Okay,” Nathan sighed, resigned to his fate. “What do you want to know?”

“What did you talk about?” Andy asked, bringing his chair closer to listen.

“First, Uncle Harry and Hagrid were talking about Ministry things. Really boring,” Nathan said, trying to discourage his friends’ interest. 

“And after that?” Kevin asked.

It failed.

“Well, he wanted to talk to me about my detention. My mother discovered it and she was really mad at me,” Nathan said, still reflecting over his godfather’s words. He had disappointed his mother.

“That’s it?” Kevin asked, disappointed.

“Yeah, pretty much it,” Nathan answered.

The boys went back to their homework but Nathan had already finished his, leaving him time to think about what his godfather had said. He had to fix things with his mother. He had disappointed her and now had to come up with something to make her proud of him again. His mind was racing. That was when he remembered a conversation he had listened to earlier. He looked through the window, _the sun is setting, perfect!_ He stood up abruptly, which called his friends’ attention back to him. 

“Where are you going?” Andy asked.

“I need to get some potions ingredients. I’ll see you later,” he answered, already reaching for the Fat Lady to leave the common room.

He met only a few students wandering the school on his way to the Entrance Hall, but nobody seemed interested in the boy rushing past them, not even when he opened the big front door that led to the grounds. He left the safety of the castle and strode directly to the borders of the Forbidden Forest. 

Nathan wasn’t lying to his friends back in the common room. He was there to fetch some potions ingredients. What he didn’t tell them was that said ingredients weren’t for him, but for Professor Snape. He would find a unicorn herd and take some of their hair back with him. _That’s a brilliant idea! I’ll make Professor Snape give me house points and my mother will be very proud of me for getting points from Professor Snape, no doubt!_ And with that in mind, he entered the woods.

Finding the unicorns wasn’t supposed to be hard. They could be found in clearings, they lived in herds and their white hair shone in the moon light. Nathan had read all about it. Walking in the woods was proving a little harder than he expected, though. The trees were getting closer and closer together as he advanced deeper into the forest. The shorter branches were scratching him and the shadows the trees made were blocking most of the light provided by the full moon shining on that early evening.

He didn’t stop, though. He kept advancing until he found the first clearing, but no unicorns were there. Not to be deterred, he walked even deeper into the forest, looking for the creatures, until he finally found them resting in the third clearing he reached.

Nathan was mesmerized by the unicorns. He had never seen such beauty before. Read about, yes, but not seen. He stood there for some time, admiring the creatures, until a sudden movement scared them away from the clearing. Nathan was startled from his stupor then and looked around, searching for the source of what had frightened the unicorns, but saw nothing. He fully entered the clearing then, wanting to pursue the creatures, and that was when he saw it. Three giant spiders appeared, entering the clearing from the opposite side to which the unicorns had left it.

Nathan didn’t have time to scream. He took off in the same direction the white creatures had gone. He ran as fast as he could through the thick, tangled trees. The spiders were behind him and he kept running, not wondering where he was going, not caring if the branches of the trees were hurting his skin, until a branch cut his leg deeply and he fell to the ground. The spiders were still coming his way; he could hear them. He got up and resumed his running, even limping and bleeding as he was.

Nathan was just managing to keep ahead of the giant spiders until he stumbled on a salient root and hurt his left ankle. He screamed from the pain, fell and lay there in the bed of decomposing leaves, all his strength gone, breathing hard. _That’s it_ , he thought, a tear leaving his eye. He was fighting to stay conscious as weakness abated him after all the blood he’d lost.

~o0oOo0o~

Kevin and Andy were in the Great Hall finishing their dinner. They got tired of waiting for Nathan to come back and had left the common room in the hope of finding him in the library, but didn’t. They entered the Great Hall thinking they would find him there already, but he wasn’t there either. Supper had ended and there was still no sign of Nathan.

“Where do you think he is?” Andy asked.

“I don’t know. He said something about potions ingredients. I thought he had gone to the dungeons or something, but now…” Kevin answered.

“Maybe Snape killed him. I don’t think he likes Nathan very much,” mused Andy with a horrified look.

“Don’t be silly, Andy,” was Kevin retort, his voice not very convincing.

They decided to approach the Head Table and tell Professor McGonagall they didn’t know where Nathan was.

“Hello, boys. Is there something you need?” the Headmistress asked the approaching Gryffindors.

“Yes, Headmistress. Nathan didn’t appear for dinner and we can’t find him anywhere,” Kevin informed.

That called the attention of the man seated at McGonagall’s left.

“Did you look for him in the library?” asked Harry.

“Yes, we did, Mr. Potter,” Andy answered.

“I was with him earlier this afternoon. I saw him entering the castle.” Harry was now talking to the Headmistress.

“Well, did you see him this afternoon, Mr. Wood, Mr. Brown?” she asked the boys.

“Yes, he was back from his meeting with Mr. Potter, but then he left again saying he needed some potions ingredients, and we haven’t seen him since,” Kevin said.

That piece of information brought the man on McGonagall’s right into the conversation. Previously he had only been listening, feigning disinterest.

“I didn’t see him in the dungeons today,” Snape stated.

“Where did he go, then?” asked Harry, somewhat rhetorically.

That was when Professor Snape stood up and addressed the Headmistress. “We need to start a search through the grounds and the forest.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, “Do you know where he is?”

“I think the stupid boy got winded by his foolish Gryffindor bravery and went to the forest to fetch unicorn hair,” Snape said and cursed under his breath.

“How can you know that for sure?” Professor McGonagall asked, nervous now.

“He heard a conversation I had with Hagrid earlier today. I didn’t know the stupid boy would want to get the blasted stuff himself,” the Potions master answered, already leaving the Great Hall. Right behind him was Harry Potter, who didn’t want to waste any more time with whys and hows, either. They would have time for that later.

They were in the grounds in an instant, and at the borders of the forest in another. “I’ll take this trail that leads to the right, you can take that one to the left,” Harry said, and was gone before Snape could come up with a retort.

Snape growled after Potter’s demand, but obliged, taking the track he had pointed out. He illuminated his path with the light from his wand tip. With whispered words, Snape performed a locating charm that pointed deep into the forest. “Why, I’m not surprised,” he murmured, irritated, before starting to follow it. Soon he reached the clearing where Nathan had met the unicorns. He frowned. The locating charm wasn’t pointing to a trail, but to a close-knit thicket of trees. _Something is not right_ , he thought and followed that direction with more urgency. 

The boy had definitely gone that way. The broken branches were enough evidence. Snape stopped in his tracks when he spotted something in the ground. _Blood_ , he realized, confirming that the Granger boy was indeed in trouble. Snape was almost running now.

He followed the blood trail, which was longer than he expected. When the amount of blood was increasing, Snape heard a scream. _Granger_ , he acknowledged, and began running flat out in the direction from which the sound had come. Soon he found who he was looking for, and then he saw the reason for the boy’s scream. Three giant spiders were trying to get to the boy on the ground. Snape flicked his wand and aimed it at the spider closest to the fallen body, but no words escaped his mouth. A red light filled the darkness and hit one of the spiders, which started to contort helplessly. The other two were hit with the same mute hex from subsequent flicks of Severus’ wand.

With the spiders now subdued and harmless, Snape passed by them and knelt by the boy on the ground. He cursed the boy’s stupidity once more as he eyed Nathan, measuring the extent of his injuries. The boy had only minor scratches and cuts, but for an ugly one on his right leg; it was bleeding hard. “Mr. Granger!” Snape said in his strong voice. He got no answer and tried again, now shaking the boy’s shoulders, “Mr. Granger!” Nathan slightly opened his eyes, but closed them again almost immediately. “Damn Gryffindor!” Snape cursed under his breath before calling the boy once again, this time by his first name, “Nathan!” 

Nathan opened his eyes again and found himself conscious enough to acknowledge, with a weak voice, “Professor Snape,” and then added, after a sharp intake of breath, “I knew… you would come.”

Nathan’s words were not lost on Snape. _He was expecting me to come for him_ , he realized, with a flicker of something in his chest. Mastering his emotions, he asked, “Can you stand?” The biting tone of his voice all but absent. He noticed and frowned at himself.

“No,” was Nathan whined response. “My ankle…”

Snape put his arms around the boy and lifted him from the ground as he stood from his kneeling position. Nathan let a pained sound escape at the sudden movement. Snape started walking back to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, carrying Nathan. The boy wrapped his arms around Snape’s neck and rested his forehead on Snape’s shoulder. “Stay awake, Granger! You lost too much blood,” Snape said when he realized that the boy in his arms was closing his eyes yet again. He increased his pace. 

Halfway to the edge of the forest, they met a very worried Harry Potter. “I heard the scream. Is he okay?” he asked, catching his breath.

“He has injured his leg and lost a great deal of blood,” Snape answered, not breaking stride to address the other man.

“Let me take him,” Harry said.

“It’s not necessary, Potter. I’ve got him,” Snape answered.

“I’ll take him from here,” Harry insisted, reaching to take Nathan from Snape’s arms.

“It’s all right… Uncle Harry,” a weak voice said. “Professor Snape… saved me,” Nathan added and closed his eyes once again.

“Stay awake, boy!” Snape snapped once more. Nathan opened his eyes again and tightened his grip on Snape’s shoulders.

The three of them kept walking towards the school. When they reached the edge of the forest, Snape turned to Harry. “Potter, alert the others that I found him. I’ll take him to the Hospital Wing.”

Harry hesitated for a moment, but then complied. Snape reached the front door and walked straight to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was already waiting for them. “Put him in that bed, Severus,” she instructed. 

Snape did as he was told, ever so gently, and stood aside. “He has lost a great deal of blood. He’s falling in a hypothermic state,” he informed the mediwitch.

“Thank you, Severus. Now give me some space so I can work properly,” Poppy snapped.

He complied, but didn’t leave the ward. His mind was on the boy lying on the bed. _He preferred me over Potter. Why? I saved him, yes! But still…_ he couldn’t rationalize on the boy’s reasons. He was lost for words and seemingly for thoughts as well. He walked even farther away from the bed when Harry came in with McGonagall; Snape was now standing in a shadowed corner of the ward, observing the mediwitch work.

“How is he?” Harry asked.

“He’ll be just fine, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey assured him. “He has lost some blood and fractured his ankle. I’ve fixed it already,” she added and tipped the contents of a potions vial into Nathan’s mouth.

“What’s that for?” Harry asked.

“It’s the Blood-Replenishing Potion. Now let me do my work!” the mediwitch snapped.

At that moment, the fire on the hearth flashed green and a woman swirled out of it. “Where’s my son?” Hermione asked, and didn’t need an answer. “Nathan!” She spotted him on the only occupied bed of the ward and walked to it, not even Madam Pomfrey could stop Hermione. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked with tears in her eyes, brushing Nathan’s black hair back from his forehead. 

“He’ll be fine, Hermione,” Harry said wrapping an arm around her and taking her out of Madam Pomfrey’s way.

“What happened? I received a message saying my son was injured. How did this happen?” she asked, watching the mediwitch work on Nathan.

“He was found in the Forbidden Forest,” McGonagall spoke up. “We don’t know yet what he was doing there.”

“Who found him?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry.

“Snape,” Harry answered, averting his eyes from Hermione’s.

Silence fell upon the ward.

The tall figure with blood stained black robes who remained unnoticed in a shadowed corner of the room didn’t say anything either. Snape was watching the woman that had surged from the fireplace with curiosity. She was physically changed; a mature woman, he noticed. Frightened for her son, and fiercely protective. _Of course_ , he concluded, _she’s a Gryffindor, after all_. 

“Where is he?” Hermione broke the awkward silence.

“I don’t know. Probably back in the dungeons,” Harry said.

“I want to see him,” Hermione stated. 

That declaration made Snape’s body stiffen. He didn’t want to meet her. He couldn’t face her.

“What for?” Harry asked.

“To thank him, of course,” she answered.

Snape’s heart was aching. The last thing he wanted was Hermione Granger thanking him for anything. _I don’t deserve your kindness, Miss. Granger_ , he thought, _or anyone’s for that matter, but especially not yours_. He closed his eyes, trying to get some control of his emotions. 

“I could call him,” McGonagall offered.

“I’d like that,” Hermione said gratefully. Madam Pomfrey had finished healing Nathan’s superficial injures, and Hermione approached the bed once again, “He’s saved you more than once now,” she told the unconscious boy in a low voice, stroking his face with the back of her hand.

It wasn’t low enough, though. Snape had heard and was now frowning. _When did I save the boy before?_ He couldn’t recall. _I didn’t even know she had a son until this term started_ , he mused.

Professor McGonagall approached the fireplace and threw in a fistful of Floo Powder, calling the Potions classroom, but got no answer. She tried Severus’ office to no avail. At last, she called for his private quarters, but no one answered there, either. The Headmistress turned Hermione’s way and said, “I can’t find Professor Snape; maybe he’s patrolling the corridors.”

Hermione nodded. Severus released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Visiting time is over,” Madam Pomfrey said, returning to the ward some time later. “Mr. Granger needs to rest and he won’t wake until tomorrow, when the effects of the mild Sleeping Draught have worn off,” she added.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hermione said. Poppy glared daggers at her.

Harry knew that look from the mediwitch all too well. “Come on, ‘Mione, we’ll be back first thing in the morning. You heard Madam Pomfrey, he’ll be sleeping the whole night,” he said, taking his friend by the shoulders.

“You can have a room here for the night, Hermione,” McGonagall added, and the three left the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office at the end of the ward. The only ones left in the room were Snape and the sleeping boy. 

Severus approached the bed and stood there for a moment. “What does your mother mean?” he asked the sleeping figure. “I never saved you before.”

He stayed there some time yet, observing Nathan’s chest rise and fall with each breath, before leaving the ward as well. 

He didn’t take the corridor that led to the dungeons, though; he didn’t want to be found. Instead, he decided to truly patrol the corridors. He had too much on his mind to even think about sleeping tonight. His feet took him to the only place he hadn’t entered since he had returned to Hogwarts after the war: the Astronomy Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know! I’ve already been told it’s a cliffhanger, but I’m sure you can wait until my next update, right? 
> 
> **Coming next…** Snape is in for a day of unpleasant meetings, and someone finally discovers Hermione’s secret.


	9. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape is in for a day of unpleasant meetings, and someone finally discovers Hermione’s secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Nine, that’s it! :0) Snape is in for a day of unpleasant meetings, and someone finally discovers Hermione’s secret. Who? How? I’ll tell you…
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

The next morning, the first rays of light filtering through the windows of the Hospital Wing fell on Hermione, sitting in a chair by Nathan’s bed. They couldn’t expect her to leave her baby while he was confined to a hospital bed. She had spent most of the night watching her son sleep and thinking of what had made Nathan go into the Forbidden Forest. Was he dared by someone? Was he lost? Was he running from someone who had tried to harm him? She had finally fallen asleep from exhaustion some time during the early hours of the morning.

Nathan opened his eyes and didn’t recognize his surroundings. His eyes traveled the room until his gaze found the woman in the chair beside his bed - his mother. She was sleeping uncomfortably, by the angle of her head. Nathan tried to call her but coughed instead, waking her anyway.

“You’re awake! Thank God!” she said, standing up from the chair to wrap her arms around her son. “You scared me, Nathan. Don’t you ever do that again!”

“I’m sorry, Mum,” he answered, his voice muffled by his mother’s embrace. 

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked, loosening the embrace to check every single inch of Nathan’s body.

“Stop fussing, Mum. I’m all right,” Nathan protested.

“Yes, and you’re lucky to be, too!” she said forcefully. “What were you thinking, Nathan? Going into the _Forbidden_ Forest, at night, alone?” she questioned, showing how angry she was, now that she’d confirmed he was all right. “Do you have a death wish or something? You almost got yourself killed!”

“I’m really, really sorry, Mum. I was just…” Nathan couldn’t bring himself to tell her what he was doing in the Forest. It seemed so silly now that he was thinking straight. How stupid of him to go there alone; he should have known better. “I’m sorry,” he repeated in a low voice.

“What were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?” Hermione asked.

“I was…” How would he tell her? “I –”

“Come on, Nathan. I don’t have all day,” she insisted. 

Nathan sighed. “I was after the unicorns,” he managed.

“Why, Nathan? Why were you after unicorns, at _night_ , in the _Forbidden_ Forest, _alone_?” Hermione emphasized, showing how short of patience she was.

Nathan knew it was better to tell her now. “I was after the unicorns to collect some of their hair. I knew Professor Snape –”

“Snape! Why is it always Professor Snape, Nathan?” his mother interrupted angrily.

He bit his bottom lip. “I know it was silly, now! But it seemed like the perfect plan at the time. I’m sorry,” he admitted.

“Yes, it was a silly thing to do, Nathan,” Hermione said, bringing her hand up to rub her eyes. She sighed.

“He saved me,” Nathan said in a low voice, after the silence had stretched longer than he felt comfortable with. “Professor Snape hexed the giant spiders and carried me here when I couldn’t walk,” he continued, staring at his clasped hands lying over the white sheet. 

“He is a remarkable man,” Hermione added, in a smooth, low voice. “Giant spiders, you said? Acromantulas? Oh, Nathan, do you know how close to death you were? Please, promise me you’ll stay away from the Forest, no matter how fascinating an idea you have,” Hermione asked, crushing Nathan into another fierce hug. “I’m begging you,” she implored, looking him in the eyes without letting him out of her arms.

“I won’t, Mum. I’ve already admitted it was a stupid idea. I don’t intend to be twice as stupid and do it again,” Nathan assured her. 

“Good.” She placed a noisy kiss on his forehead, freeing him from the embrace. “Because stupidity doesn’t suit you.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” Nathan agreed, smirking at his mother. He knew she was still mad at him, but it seemed that her relief was greater than her anger. He was relieved, too. His mother was right; he had escaped death because of a miracle, and its name was Snape. He was happy at his luck.

Noises coming from the door of the infirmary drew mother and son’s attention from each other.

“You’re awake!” said Harry, approaching his godson’s bed. “So, up to telling me what the hell you were doing in the Forbidden Forest by yourself?”

“Not really,” Nathan answered. He didn’t want anyone else pointing out how stupid he had been.

“He was after unicorns, Harry. He wanted to take some of their hair for Potions,” Hermione filled him in.

“I already knew that. That’s how we got to him in the first place. Snape remembered a conversation he had with Hagrid about it earlier today and suspected that Nathan could be in the Forest after overhearing it,” Harry said. 

“So Professor Snape knew I was there for the unicorn hair?” Nathan said, as realization struck him. Professor Snape believed he would be stupid enough to try to fetch the ingredient himself. “God, how embarrassing! I’ve made a complete fool of myself!” he added, hiding his face in his hands.

“Yeah, you did,” Harry agreed. “Why did you do it alone? That’s what I don’t understand. Don’t you know that the Forbidden Forest is dangerous? You should have taken someone with you for backup; one of those friends of yours, maybe.”

Hermione was eyeing Harry in disbelief. “Harry, is that the best advice you can give him? To take someone with him? You’re supposed to be his godfather, not his best mate!” she admonished.

“Okay, you’re not to enter the Forbidden Forest again. Not even with your best friends,” Harry told Nathan, and the boy rolled his eyes at his godfather.

“I’ve already said that I don’t intend to go in there again, okay! I won’t!” Nathan assured them once again. _The fact that Professor Snape knows of my stupidity is punishment enough to even think about doing it again_ , he thought. That was when he realized he hadn’t been punished for breaking the school rules yet. “I don’t think I’ll see the grounds for the rest of the school-year, anyway. I’ll probably be in detention until summer,” he said sarcastically.

“You’re probably right,” Harry agreed, and Nathan sighed.

As the time that breakfast would be served in the Great Hall approached, the castle gained life once more with students all around. The three occupants of the Hospital Wing hadn’t noticed the boys lingering by the infirmary door, murmuring to each other. Hermione was the first to acknowledge them. 

“Are you looking for Madam Pomfrey?” she asked from where she stood by Nathan’s bed.

“Er… no,” said a nervous Kevin. “We’re here to see Nathan, Ms. Granger.”

Hermione smiled at the boys, then. “You must be Andy and Kevin. Come in,” she encouraged.

“Hey guys,” Nathan greeted his shy friends, who were approaching his bed slowly.

“Hey Nathan, we just wanted to see you before classes,” Andy said.

“Mum, this is Andy and that is Kevin,” Nathan introduced. “This is my mother, Hermione Granger,” he added unnecessarily.

“We know, Nathan,” Kevin affirmed. Extending a hand, he said, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Granger.” Andy followed suit.

“We heard you were in the Forbidden Forest last night,” Andy said, curiosity evident in his voice.

“Yeah, I was. But I don’t want to talk about it now,” Nathan answered pointing at his mother with what he thought was a discrete flick of head.

“But what – ah!” Andy was cut by Kevin’s elbow hitting his ribs.

“You must be tired now, we understand,” Kevin said quickly, while Andy rubbed his ribs.

Madam Pomfrey entered the infirmary by the small door that led to her office. “Good morning, Mr. Granger. I can see you’re much better than the last time I saw you,” she said and started casting diagnosis spells over Nathan. “Much better, indeed.”

“I have to go to the Great Hall for breakfast,” Harry said to Hermione, and to the three boys, added, “I hope to see you in my class later today.” 

“If he eats his breakfast and still feels well after that,” Poppy answered for Nathan, who rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you walk with me, boys?” Harry asked and was answered by two enthusiastic smiles. Harry smiled, too, and gave Hermione a quick kiss on one cheek before leaving the Hospital Wing in the company of the Gryffindors.

Mother and son ate their breakfast together. They talked while waiting for Madam Pomfrey to release Nathan, which finally happened a couple of hours later. Hermione accompanied her son through the castle corridors and halls with a sense of nostalgia. She really missed Hogwarts, her second home. Stopping in front of the Fat Lady portrait, Hermione gave Nathan another hug and kissed the top of his head.

“I miss you so much. Be a good boy and stop getting yourself into trouble, okay?” she said, playing with Nathan’s hair.

Nathan smiled then. “Thank you, Mum,” he said, and giving the password to the portrait he disappeared behind it into Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione had one more thing to do at Hogwarts before going back to London. She had to find Severus Snape.

~o0oOo0o~

Miss Granger’s presence at the school had disturbed Severus more than he wanted to acknowledge. She brought back memories of the worst year of his life. He had spent many hours in the Astronomy Tower before getting back to his quarters in the dungeons last night. He hadn’t entered that part of the castle since the day Dumbledore died; the day he had killed him. But last night he had returned to the place; he had just stayed there, watching the full moon and the stars that surrounded it, torturing himself with things long done, long gone, long lost.

Could he have done things differently? He certainly could. He had come up with dozens of possibilities for that night’s events, and all of them ended with his death. Not Dumbledore’s, not Potter’s, not Malfoy’s; only his death. Yet, he had lived to comply with Albus’ request. He had killed the man who had trusted him with his very soul, and had buried his honor in that white tomb together with his only friend. 

A little more than a year after that, Severus found himself being redeemed from his atrocious crime by the Wizengamot. Potter was right; he should be in Azkaban with the remaining Death Eaters. That was his place, with cold-blooded murderers; not in a school, teaching innocent children. 

And then, there was Hermione Granger, the one responsible for all of it. She had trusted him when no one else would. She had contacted him after he had left Hogwarts that night. She had brought him back to the Order’s meeting and had explained and proved his loyalty to Dumbledore, even after the old wizard’s death.

In spite of that, he had once more proved his honor was buried that night he had killed Dumbledore. She had trusted him as much as Albus had, and he had broken her trust. He had violated her; he had hurt her in order to save her. Oh, how he hated himself and his damned choices. Even more because she had never blamed him; on the contrary, she had prepared his defense for his hearing. She, Hermione Granger, had freed him from Azkaban, where he belonged.

And now there was the boy, Nathan Granger. She kept telling her son how honorable he, Severus Snape, was, how much of a hero he was and all that crap. The boy was supposed to be afraid of him - the cold-blooded murderer of the dungeons - and not feel comfortable in his classes, in his detentions… in his arms. The boy was so desperate for his acknowledgement that he was willing to risk his life to receive praise from him. Him, the greasy git! And it was all _her_ fault.

He had passed by the infirmary after leaving the Astronomy Tower and had found her there, sleeping by her son’s bed. He hadn’t entered the ward, not with her there. He had watched her from the small window in the door. She had slept at Hogwarts to be with her son, and that had made the rest of his night a living hell.

He was still avoiding her the next morning. He was in the middle of a double lesson - the very same one her son should be attending if he wasn’t trapped to a hospital bed... _because of her_ , he added mentally. _Yes, because it’s all her fault. It’s all Hermione Granger’s fault._

Snape was brought back from his musings by the sound of a pestle hitting the floor. He stood from his chair and growled at the unfortunate student. “Now, is it so difficult to hold the utensils while using them, Mr. Bucknall. Five points from Slytherin for your incompetence!”

Surprise was on the face of every student in the classroom. “What’s wrong with him?” Andy used the lowest voice possible to ask Kevin, who was seated just behind him.

“I don’t know and I don’t want to find out either, if he’s taking points from Slytherin like that!” Kevin answered in a whisper.

The class passed in absolute silence, and without any more incidents. No one wanted to get on the wrong side of the Potions master at the best of times, let alone with him in such an awful mood.

“You have ten minutes to turn in your samples, clean up your mess and disappear from my sight!” Snape said to them all when the class was ending.

The students did as they were told as fast as they could; no one wanted to be the last to leave the classroom and be left alone with Snape in the worst mood they had ever seen. When the last two students were hurriedly leaving the room, Hermione Granger appeared at the doorway.

“So, you’re still here,” Snape said in acknowledgement of her presence.

“I was looking for you before going back to London,” Hermione said entering the classroom and walking towards his desk, where he sat.

He stood up and started to collect the vials the students had left on his desk. “You found me,” he said in a dry tone of voice.

Hermione was observing the man in front of her. She hadn’t seen him since his hearing at the Ministry, more than eleven years ago; the father of her son. “Yes, I did,” she said, a little lost for what to say now that she was in the same room as him. 

Her hesitation was irritating him further. _She could end this torment right away_ , he thought, but continued to ignore her.

“I wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday,” Hermione said, watching his hands while they worked, placing the vials in the crate now resting on the desk.

In spite of having been waiting for this, Snape felt as if he had been punched, her words making him sick. He stopped pretending he was busy. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my duty to protect the students,” he said without taking his eyes from his desk.

“I know, but I want to thank you anyway,” she insisted, taking a step closer to where he stood.

Snape lifted his eyes and looked at her. She was different from the last time he had seen her, as he had noted last night. He felt uncomfortable with the way she was looking at him and lowered his eyes, resuming his task. “If you’ve said what you came here to say, you can go now. I’m very busy,” he said, dismissing her.

Hermione lowered her head, too, also uncomfortable with the man in front of her, but for completely different reasons. “I’ll leave you to your work, then. Good morning, Professor Snape,” she said softly and turned to leave.

He didn’t answer, just lifted his head to observe her leave. When he couldn’t see her anymore he sighed and loosened the grip on the vial he hadn’t realized he was crushing. _She is gone._

~o0oOo0o~

On the third floor, Nathan was waiting for his friends by the Defense classroom. He spotted them at the end of the corridor. They saw him and smiled, increasing their pace to reach him.

“So, you’re back!” greeted a happy Andy.

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey said I could go back to classes,” Nathan said.

“That’s good, but you were lucky to skip Potions. Professor Snape was really scary today,” Kevin said.

That piece of information left Nathan uneasy. “Do you think so, too, Andy?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! You should have seen how he treated Bucknall for letting the pestle slip. He took points from Slytherin and called him incompetent. A Slytherin!” Andy said in exasperation.

 _Well, that’s not good_ , thought Nathan. His mother had made him promise that he would look for Professor Snape and apologize for his idiocy, and he’d agreed. He wanted to apologize as well, even knowing he would be punished. Hell, he even deserved the punishment. “That’s too bad, because I’ll have to see him later,” he said.

“Why is that?” asked Andy.

“I have to thank him for saving me yesterday,” Nathan explained.

“He saved you? I thought Harry Potter did!” Kevin said, surprised with the news.

“No, Professor Snape found me and saved me from the giant spiders. He also carried me to the Hospital Wing because I couldn’t walk. You should have seen how he hexed those spiders!” Nathan couldn’t disguise his awe. 

“Wait a minute. You’re saying that Snape - the same Snape that teaches Potions, the Slytherin bastard - saved _you_? A Gryffindor! That doesn’t make any sense!” exclaimed a confused Kevin.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “That’s the only Snape I know,” he said, matter-of-factly. 

At that moment, Harry Potter entered the classroom from the side door that gave access to Lupin’s office. Seeing Nathan seated with his friends, he smiled and said, “I’m glad you could make it to my class, Nathan.” His godson only smiled in response.

“Well, I don’t think an introduction is necessary. Let’s start with the lesson, then. We’ll be learning some defensive block spells today. Take out your wands,” Harry instructed. The class was quiet, looking at him intently. He sighed. “Okay, fire away. What do you want to know?” he asked in resignation. Every time he came to Hogwarts to cover for Lupin, it was the same. All the students wanted to know was about his heroic acts.

“How was it facing You-Know-Who?” a girl in the front asked and everyone strained to listen to the answer.

“It was something I had to do, so I did. Voldemort wasn’t going to leave me alone while I lived, so I had to destroy him,” he explained.

“Did you really use the Killing Curse?” asked a Slytherin.

“Yes, I did,” was Harry’s short answer. 

Nathan knew his godfather didn’t like talking about the war so he raised his hand. “Yes, Nathan?” Harry acknowledged a little surprised.

“Why did you stop playing Quidditch and become an Auror?” Nathan asked.

Harry smiled at his godson in a sign of gratitude, “I thought it was time to put my Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge to use, and that’s what we are going to do now. Wands out!” The class progressed to the defensive spells then.

~o0oOo0o~

Snape hadn’t shown up for the meals in the Great Hall. He didn’t want to see anyone else that day. He was now sitting is his poorly-lit office, waiting for curfew to make his round of the castle before retreating to his quarters to try to forget this blasted day.

The sound of Hermione’s voice thanking him was still playing in his mind, along with the things he had heard yesterday in the Hospital Wing. He wouldn’t ask her, of course, but her saying he had saved the boy at least once before was puzzling him. He tried to recall every single boy he had helped in all those years. There weren’t many, and he still couldn’t figure it out. He shook his head, purging the thoughts from his mind. He didn’t want to think of it anymore. He tried once again to concentrate on the third-year essays he was grading.

He had managed to finish a couple when he heard a tap on the door. He lifted his head from the parchment and cursed the interruption. “Enter,” he growled.

The door opened and the figure of a boy was outlined by the torches in the corridor. As the figure advanced into the room, Snape recognized him. “Granger,” he spat. That was all he needed to complete the infernal day; another meeting with another Granger.

“Good evening, Professor Snape,” Nathan greeted.

All Snape wanted was to get rid of him as soon as possible. “What do you want?” he asked impatiently.

“I want to apologize,” Nathan said in a low voice. He moved with hesitation, avoiding Snape’s eyes, his unusual shyness betraying some of his feelings.

Snape sighed. _What’s wrong with these Grangers?_ he thought, but then noticed the boy’s attitude, or lack of it, actually. _Is he… ashamed?_ He smirked then. “You should feel ashamed of your idiocy. I thought you were more than a stupid, reckless Gryffindor, but it seems I was mistaken. You’re just another dunderhead.” He saw the boy physically flinch for the first time. It didn’t please him as he had thought it would, and he frowned.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said, with his head down. “I was a Troll of an idiot and I’m here for my punishment, sir.” 

_He’s here to be punished?_ That was a confusing thought. _No one ever comes to my office seeking punishment, unless they were sent here… or dragged here_. “Who sent you here?” he asked then.

“No one, sir,” Nathan jerked his head to look at the Potions master in confusion.

“So why did you come? Do you want me to punish you?” Snape asked, more than a hint of his sarcasm in his voice.

“No one else has more right, sir,” Nathan answered firmly. “You’re the one who saved me from the spiders and carried me to the Hospital Wing. It’s only logical that you should be the one to punish me,” he added.

That declaration made Snape arch an eyebrow. “Fifty points from Gryffindor and a month of detentions,” he stated. Nathan didn’t utter a sound in protest. “Do you think that will suffice?” he added with a smirk.

“If you’re asking if it’ll keep me out of the Forbidden Forest, then yes. But if you’re asking if it will compensate for my idiocy, then I should just as well spend the rest of the year in detention, sir,” Nathan said, his eyes shining in the hearth’s light.

Snape noted the rage in the boy’s eyes and couldn’t stop himself from admiring Nathan’s wit. “I think I can skip the sermon, then,” he said, vaguely amused.

“My mother covered that, sir,” Nathan assured the Potions master.

“Perhaps, but she is only one parent. What about your father?” Snape asked.

Nathan fidgeted for a moment, averting his eyes from the Professor. Snape noticed and came to his own conclusions. “He is a muggle, then. I understand.”

“No sir, I…” Nathan trailed off, not knowing how to explain. Perhaps it would be better to stick with the truth, “I don’t know who my father is,” he said in a very low voice, hoping Snape wouldn’t hear him.

But Snape had heard, and he was frowning. “You don’t?” Snape said, almost as a reflexive response to the revelation. _He doesn’t know who his father is?_ His mind was trying to process that information. _Miss Granger doesn’t know who her son’s father is?_ That seemed impossible. _Of course she does!_ he admonished himself mentally. _The know-it-all would know the father of her son, wouldn’t she?_

His mind’s ramble was interrupted by Nathan. “But there’s always someone to fulfill his role when discipline is concerned. This time it was Uncle Harry.”

Snape just sat there, staring at the boy in barely disguised disbelief. 

Nathan was starting to feel some discomfort. Although he was used to the situation, he always felt uneasy the first moment people found out he didn’t know the identity of his own father. Almost as if reading Snape’s thoughts, Nathan said, “My mother knows who my father is, of course, but she won’t tell me.”

Realizing his opportunity, and only hesitating just a little, he asked the Potions master, “You knew her when she was a student here, sir. Do you remember if she dated someone in her seventh year?” and then he added in a sarcastic tone, trying to cover for his nervousness, “I know she dated Uncle Ron, but I’m most definitely not a Weasley.” 

Snape was examining Nathan carefully now. The boy said nothing else and just stood there. These were the kind of puzzles the Potions master liked to solve. No, the boy was definitely not a Weasley. 

He eyed Nathan as if seeing him for the first time. He observed his slim form, tall for an eleven year-old, and his long fingers. He let his eyes travel from the boy’s hands to his face; square chin, full mouth, nicely outlined nose and coal-black hair. And then his eyes met the blackness of the boy’s. It seemed as though he was staring into a mirror, and Snape finally confronted his remembrances of that year and everything he was seeing in this boy standing in front of him. His eye widened. “No!” he said, little louder than a whisper.

Nathan didn’t miss the strange look that crossed his teacher’s face, but only said, “It’s all right, Professor. No one seems to know, except my mother.” He now felt exposed. He didn’t want to stay there any longer. He went to the door, leaving a frowning Snape staring after him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sir. Good night,” he said, just before closing the door behind him. 

Snape was still staring at the place where the boy had been standing moments ago, as if still seeing him there. He closed his eyes and every similarity between Nathan Granger and himself played in his memory like he was viewing a Pensieve. Nathan working in his classroom; Nathan arching his eyebrow at him during the meals; Nathan’s eyes and hair and slim hands... “No! No! NO!” he roared the last negative as he was forced to acknowledge what was now blatantly obvious – he was Nathan’s father! He covered his face in his hands.

 _How could she do this? Why would she do this? She kept a child of a…_ he was suddenly finding it hard to breath. His chest was aching, his eyes shut tightly. He abruptly rose from his desk, knocking the chair back behind him. He clutched the ink-bottle sitting on the desk. “How could she do this to me!” he roared, and red ink stained his office door as the bottle shattered.

He rested the palms of his hands on the corner of his desk, searching for some balance, and lowered his head. He was feeling sick. He tried to breathe again, but it hurt. He hurt with every intake of air, with every thought. _I’ve ruined her life_. And suddenly his legs couldn’t hold his weight anymore, and he fell to his knees, gripping the desktop with white knuckles.

Images of the night Hermione had been captured by a group of Death Eaters were playing in his mind. He could see it as if he was there all over again. A group of four masked men, two clutching her by each arm while she fought in vain to be released, entered the gathering of Death Eaters reunited by the Dark Lord. He could barely disguise his terror for the girl as she was thrown forcefully to the floor. He could see the satisfaction on Voldemort’s distorted face. “Potter’s number one groupie, what a pleasant surprise,” he had said in that reptilian voice.

Snape had put his mind to work on a way to save her without exposing his position as a spy, after all he had been through to keep it, but couldn’t think of anything. He watched in concealed horror as the Dark Lord cast the Cruciatus on her, and as her screams penetrated his mind, he knew he had to find a way to save her.

Voldemort had declared that she was of no more use to him, after thoroughly ransacking her mind for valuable information. He had seen his opportunity then, when a Death Eater approached the girl on the floor, already unfastening his trousers. He had to do it if he wanted to keep her alive. So he did.

He broke from the gathering that had formed around her and proclaimed, “She is mine.” He had to remember that it was the only way. He unfastened his belt, opened his trousers and knelt by her. She met his eyes with her tear-strained ones, and he averted his eyes from hers to concentrate on the task at hand. He had to do it if he wanted to save her life.

He pulled her closer to him with force, and his body met hers. He moved inside her and with every stroke he felt a piece of his soul escape his being. She spilled silent tears while he violated her. The assembled Death Eaters were enjoying the show nonetheless, and when it was over they were hungry for more. 

That was when Snape clutched Hermione’s arm hard and brought her to her feet with him. They approached the Dark Lord and Snape said, “I want this Mudblood for myself, my Lord.”

The snake-faced creature seemed to consider his request for a moment. The others were waiting in expectation. “Why do you want her, Snape?” he asked then.

“She tormented me for six years, my Lord. I want her as my personal slave. Revenge, my Lord,” he answered and tightened his grip on Hermione’s arms to show he was serious. 

Voldemort seemed to like the possessive display. “You can have her, Snape, but you have full responsibility for her. If she escapes, you die.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Snape said and lowered both of them to kiss the hem of Voldemort’s robes. “I ask permission to leave, my Lord.”

And he had left the gathering with Hermione, Apparating them both to his shabby house at Spinner’s End, he took her to one of the small rooms on the second floor of the house and examined her for any serious injury. She hadn’t said anything since he had first touched her. He had healed her minor cuts and bruises as best he could, trying not to touch her any more than necessary. Draping a threadbare blanket over her still form, he made to leave the room for a moment. He had his right hand on the doorknob when she decided to break the silence, “Thank you.”

He had frozen in place upon hearing those undeserving words coming from her mouth. He had closed his eyes for a moment and had left her in the room, only coming back to bring her food and some books for the remainder of her stay. He couldn’t face her.

And yet today, the consequences of those actions had just left his office; a child, his child, a rape child. Rage built in his guts, escaping from his eyes when they snapped open once more, glowering in the fire light. He rose from his kneeling position, taking his anger out on his desk in an attempt to lessen his frustration. If he felt he couldn’t forgive himself before, now he just wanted to bury himself with his honor and Albus Dumbledore in the white tomb by the lake.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione sat by her desk in the study in her apartment, unaware of the man raging in his office back at Hogwarts. She had left the castle soon after she had spoken with Snape that morning. Her work at the university had kept her mind away from the day’s events, but with no distractions now, she couldn’t avoid them anymore.

Severus had saved Nathan not knowing he was saving his own son. _A freak of destiny_ , she thought. Seeing Snape had brought back feelings she thought she didn’t have anymore. She had felt uneasy in his presence. The fact that she bore a secret of catastrophic magnitude didn’t help matters in anyway. 

He hadn’t changed much from the last time she had seen him. Not physically, and not in his behavior, from what she had learned from Nathan. The way he treated her in the classroom was yet more proof of that. _Why can’t he accept gratitude?_ she mused. _He always comes up with the done-my-duty speech_. She shook her head. 

The image of his hands working with the potions vials came to her mind then. _He’s still skilful in every movement_ , she thought. It reminded her of the first time she had seen Snape, in that first Potions class back when she was just a first-year. His passionate speech, the way he manipulated the ingredients and utensils… It reminded her of Nathan. She sighed, her secret once again haunting her.

The fact that she had met Snape after such a long time had brought the night she had been captured by the Death Eaters to the front of her mind. It was a painful memory that haunted her dreams and made her wake up with tears in her eyes. While conscious, though, Hermione had no dread at the remembrance. She was thankful for Severus’ presence at that gathering, for she would be dead otherwise. He was the most courageous man she knew.

His courage had exceeded all her expectations that night. She had already been resigned to her fate of being raped and killed, when she heard his voice saying she was his. When he had knelt by her she knew what he was going to do and, though she was scared, she also trusted him. She knew he hadn’t liked it any more than she had, but he had done what he had to do to save her life, and she thanked him for that. 

She knew he regretted what he was forced to do by the way he treated her afterwards. The nine days she had spent as his _guest_ , he had barely directed a word to her. He didn’t look her in the eyes or spend more than the necessary time in the room he had arranged for her. He had permitted her access to his extensive library, but she had never met him there. 

Even after the war had ended, during his hearing, they had exchanged very few words. By then she already knew she was pregnant and had decided not to tell him. He would never have permitted her to continue with it, and she wanted to have the child. She had promised herself that she would tell him when the pregnancy achieved the point where no abortion could be made safely, but hadn’t had the courage. The same happened when Nathan was born and the secret haunted her even now.

But through all of that, she was left with Nathan, the most precious gift life could have ever given her. She longed for the day she would be able to tell him about his father, but feared the day would never come. What she saw today at Hogwarts wasn’t very encouraging. Snape didn’t seem to have changed at all; how could she face him? She didn’t know.

The night she had spent on the chair by Nathan’s bed was starting to get to her. She was tired and her back ached. She stood and left the study for a most deserving bath. She had to catch up with the work she had neglected to attend the Headmistress’ call. _Tomorrow will be a full day_ , she thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst, I know. But it had to be like this! I hope I hadn’t offended anyone with that little scene. Well, now you know what happened, so I want to know what you think of this whole mess. Leave me a review! :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** An unaware Nathan is in for a month of detentions with his now very aware father.


	10. Acquaintance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan is in for a month of detentions and Hermione is realizing something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Ten, wow! :0) An unaware Nathan is in for a month of detentions with his now very aware father. Oh boy!
> 
> **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

Nathan left Professor Snape’s office frowning in thought. He had noticed the strange expression on Snape’s face after he had asked him of his mother’s past. _He knows something_ , he concluded, _just like Uncle Harry_. Everybody who knew something that could help him find out his father’s identity chose not to tell him anything. _Why?_ he caught himself thinking. _Is he such a horrible person that everyone feels the need to protect me from him?_ It wasn’t the first time his mind led him to that idea.

He walked back to Gryffindor Tower trying to figure out what might be so horrible about his father. _Is he dead?_ No, he had already thought about that possibility and had discarded it. If his father was dead, his identity wouldn’t be of such importance, would it? He didn’t think so. _He must be a horrible, dangerous man._ That would more likely be the case. His father was a monster. _Is he in Azkaban, then?_ That could be it, because of one thing he was sure: his father was a wizard. But, then again, why would it be so important for him not to know his identity? Nathan shook his head at the lack of answers.

He had been through this so many times, and was yet to find out something that would really lead to his father’s name. And again, Snape knew something. This was new. Uncle Harry was his mother’s best friend, so Nathan could only expect that he would know something on the matter, but Snape… that was completely unexpected. Nathan had never thought about Snape as one of his mother’s acquaintances. He had asked the Potions master about her relationships only on an impulse, and now he realized that Snape knew something. _What does he know? Does he know who my father is?_ He sighed.

Nathan entered the common room still lost in thought. Kevin spotted him by the portrait hole and called on Andy, who was working on his Transfiguration essay. Both boys observed their distracted friend walking aimlessly across the room. Kevin brought him back from his musings. “Hey, Nathan!” 

Nathan looked their way as if surprised to see them there. He walked the space that separated him from his friends. “Hey, guys,” he said without a trace of enthusiasm, lowering himself into the armchair facing the table where they were working. He was tired, both from the day’s activities that now wore on his weakened body and from his overexerting mind.

Andy, noticing Nathan’s unusual behavior, asked, “Are you feeling all right?”

Nathan sighed. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Does it have to do with Snape?” asked Kevin. “I’ve never seen him as scary as he was today.” After a pause, he added, “Did he offer you something to drink? You didn’t take it, did you?” He eyed Nathan with concern.

“Do you think I’m that stupid?” Nathan shook his head in disbelief. “I might be stupid enough to enter the Forbidden Forest, but I would never drink anything Professor Snape offered me in his office,” he added.

“That would be stupid,” agreed Andy, “Everybody knows Snape is an evil wizard, and the way he was today…”

“Professor Snape is not evil. He saved my life yesterday, remember?” Nathan admonished. “I just wouldn’t drink anything he offered me because he’s a Slytherin.” 

“That is a good reason, too,” agreed Kevin, nodding in agreement. “So, how was the meeting then?”

“Fifty points and a month of detentions,” Nathan stated simply.

“A month? That’s awful! How is one supposed to survive a month of detentions with Snape?” asked Andy in disbelief.

Nathan sighed. “I’ll manage,” he assured his friends. “I’ve survived one day; I can survive the rest.”

“A whole month, though? I don’t know…” Andy said uncertainly. “You should go to the Headmistress and ask her to do something about it. I don’t think she would want anyone with Snape for that long.”

“I’ll be fine,” Nathan assured his friends once more. He was now contemplating a month of detentions with Professor Snape in a totally different light, but his friends didn’t know that. The Potions master knew something about his father and it wouldn’t be so bad to spend some time with him. He would have more opportunities to inquire further. This could be his chance to finally find out who his father was.

Nathan had never talked about it with his friends. They hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t volunteered the information, either. That suited Nathan quite well, since he didn’t want his friends looking at him as the bastard he was. No, he wouldn’t say anything. He would keep it to himself.

Of course, when Andy started to tell stories of his father, how he had taught him Quidditch maneuvers and all manner of other fun things, Nathan longed for a father too. He had missed so many things that only a father could give. He tried to picture his father doing all those things Andy spoke of, but he couldn’t get the image exactly right. It was missing something – he couldn’t picture his father’s face.

Deciding he hadn’t the strength to even start with the readings he had scheduled for that evening, Nathan bid his goodnights and headed for the dormitory. He had his first detention tomorrow and was still thinking what to do with the information he had acquired today. Snape knew something about his father.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus had managed to calm himself, somewhat, after that outburst of rage. He was now pacing the living room in his quarters, thinking of what to do. With every other thing that came to his mind was a way to hurt Hermione Granger, and that was when he stopped his pacing and took a deep breath, only to start pacing again.

For one mad instant, he thought about killing Miss Granger, then about killing himself, but had managed enough control to realize that that was not the answer. This was all happening because he had wanted her to live in the first place. The thought of killing himself still lingered within his mind between a bad and a worse idea, but his Slytherin self-preservation instincts soon denied him the option, and he was back to nothing; he had not even a single, feeble idea of what to do.

Tired of pacing, he sat in the armchair facing the cracking fire that lit the room. _How could she do this to me?_ He growled in frustration for not knowing the answer. _How could she do this to herself?_ He sighed. He couldn’t imagine the reasons a woman like Hermione would do such thing; keep a rape child. It was perfectly acceptable to abort under such circumstances, and he was sure she knew that. _Then why? Why continue with a pregnancy that was started in such a manner?_ He couldn’t come up with a reasonable explanation for her actions; yet another mystery to add to the collection of Miss Granger’s mysteries.

_She knew he was my child_ ; he had no doubt of that, and it just confused him further. The fact that she knew she was having his child and had continued with it anyway was disconcerting. _Why would she want to keep a child with my blood?_ He grimaced at the thought. He wasn’t ready to deal with it - he had a child. He could deal only with feelings he understood and right now he was feeling too much. He wanted to blame someone for this vortex of feelings. He couldn’t blame Nathan, because the boy didn’t have a choice on the matter. He would blame his mother.

His thoughts shifted to Nathan, even if unwillingly. No, he couldn’t blame the boy, but he didn’t have to like him, either. The boy was as annoying as his mother. _And as intelligent as his mother, too_ , he had to admit. The boy’s skill with potions… that was his. He remembered how marveled he had been with Nathan’s work during his classes. He could now acknowledge it, because he knew the boy had inherited these skills from him. Severus shook his head, then, he didn’t want to go there. He didn’t want to think about the boy. 

He stood and left the small living room and went to the bathroom. Maybe a bath would help him think things through. He needed to be thinking straight if he were to deal with this, and he felt as tired as if he had confronted a dozen Dementors. He opened the water faucet and it started filling the bathtub. He turned and found his reflection staring back at him from the mirror. He stayed there, staring at himself and listening to the water falling and to his thoughts. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his nape, throwing his head back to meet his hand. Then, he opened his eyes again. “You’re a disaster,” he said to his reflection. “You’re always messing with people’s lives.”

He kept staring at himself until the water reached the perfect level. He undressed and submersed his sore body in the warm water. _I should confront Miss Granger_ , he thought, _and tell her what she did was her worst mistake_. He sighed. He wouldn’t accomplish anything with such foolish act. What was done, was done. _I’ll make her regret what she did, though_ , he thought, clenching his jaw in anger. If he couldn’t go back and change the fact that he had a son, he would make the woman responsible for this mistake pay.

He closed his eyes again, trying to take benefit from the relaxing bath. He didn’t want a child, he never had. _Another Snape, just what the world needs_ , he thought sarcastically. Family was never part of his plans for life. It wasn’t even among the top ten things he most wanted, but if he started thinking about all the things he ever desired in life, he would come to realize he had devoted all these years to the wrong things. All the mistakes he had made in his youth; all the mistakes he had made in his adulthood… _Do I really know what I want?_ he caught himself thinking. _All I want now is to be left in peace_. Of that he was sure.

Peace seemed a little distant to accomplish now. He was in the middle of things again, consequences of his actions that persisted to haunt him. No peace, just uncertainties and choices to be made – yet more chances to make more mistakes. _I’ll have a solution by morning_ , he thought with conviction. All he needed was to relax, clear his mind and get some sleep. He finished his bath and changed into his nightshirt. 

He lowered his tired body to the soft bed and tried to sleep, but try as he might, he couldn’t relax. He rolled from one side to another, his mind on the events that changed his life once again. He wouldn’t sleep this night. He didn’t think he would sleep for many nights.

When the morning came, Snape prepared himself to attend breakfast in the Great Hall. He had decided that he wouldn’t change his life just because a child had some of his blood running through their veins. He left his quarters and met very few students on his way to the Great Hall. It was still early and he was one of the first to arrive, which suited him perfectly. He wasn’t in the best mood to handle annoying students or engage in idle chit-chat with his colleagues.

Snape took his seat and served himself his usual cup of coffee. An owl brought his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ as usual and he read the unimportant news of the wizarding world while sipping his coffee. He buttered some toast, and ate some eggs and sausages, as usual. Then, he perused the student tables and the entrance door in yet another every-day habit, saw a group of Gryffindor first-years entering the Great Hall and realized that nothing would be usual anymore.

Nathan Granger and his friends headed for the Gryffindor table, oblivious to the Potions master's struggle for normalcy. Nathan had slept very late the night before, thinking about yesterday’s events. But now, he had his mind on other things. When he went down the stairs connecting the boy’s dormitories to the common room this morning, he had found a great concentration of students gathering around a sign on the board. He didn’t have to fight the crowd to see what it was all about because Kevin was already coming in his direction with a wide grin on his face. “There will be a Halloween feast!” he had said enthusiastically, and that was the only subject of discussion since then.

Nathan was excited with the idea of Halloween in the wizarding world. Even growing up and living most of his life in the Muggle world, he knew this was a big holiday for wizards. He had heard stories of the feasts at Hogwarts and if everything was like what he had heard, this would be the greatest party ever!

Nathan had celebrated Halloween the Muggle way while growing up. He and some friends from the building in which he lived, wearing costumes, walked the streets nearby, going from door to door and asking for candy. His mother didn’t like this idea very much. She always confiscated half of the sweets he collected. Nathan was trying to explain all of that to Kevin and Andy.

“So, you wear a costume to run from door to door and ask for candy?” asked  
Andy.

“Exactly, you knock at the door of a house and say: trick or treat. If they don’t have candy, you can play a prank on their house,” Nathan tried to explain.

“And they can’t do anything? I mean, they just watch you do whatever you want with their house and do nothing?” asked a confused Andy.

“Only if they don’t have candy, but they always do,” assured Nathan.

“Do they have carved pumpkins, too?” inquired Kevin.

“Some people carve pumpkins, but not everyone. You can buy fake ones you just plug into the energy; it’s much easier,” Nathan explained, which only added to his friends’ confusion. They looked at each other and shrugged; Nathan rolled his eyes.

The conversation shifted to their Charms essay and then to Quidditch. Nathan was eating cereal from a bowl when he started to feel uncomfortable. It felt as if someone was observing him. He glanced around the hall, finally locking eyes with Professor Snape, who was staring at him. He stared back as he always did and was surprised when the Potions master didn’t frown in disapproval, as he usually did. Nathan narrowed his eyes and still there was no response. It was as if Professor Snape was looking at him but not seeing him. _What’s wrong with him?_ thought Nathan. He stared a little longer in curiosity and then went back to his breakfast. _Weird_.

Professor Snape had lost the battle he was fighting to pretend nothing had changed. His son was in the same room as he, eating breakfast with his Gryffindor friends. He looked at the boy, lost in thoughts. He hadn’t even noticed that Nathan had been staring at him a few moments ago. He had failed to ignore the boy’s presence. He shook his head and lowered his eyes to his plate. He played with its content for a while until a voice coming from behind him, interrupted his struggle with the food. “I’ve been looking for you,” Harry said.

“What do you want Potter?” Snape asked, stopping tracing unrecognizable patterns in the food with his fork, but not taking his eyes from the plate. _Why did I ever think I would have some peace?_ he mused.

“Well, Friday is my last day here, so I was thinking we should have our duel then,” Harry said.

Every year since Voldemort demise, Harry challenged Snape to a duel. At first, Harry had just wanted to fight Snape and, at Ron’s suggestion, had called Snape for a duel. After being called coward again, Snape had accepted the invitation and from there on it had become some kind of annual tradition. It was mostly good-natured, but they would never completely bury the animosity that had existed between them for so long. Harry was yet to win, too, which only added to his desire to continue the tradition.

Snape thought for a while, considering the request, and after some deliberation he lifted his eyes to meet Harry’s. “Do you still think you can beat me Potter? Even after all these years of failure?” he mocked the hero with a smirk.

“You know what I think. Are you ready for me this time?” Harry mocked back.

“I’m always ready for you, Potter,” Snape said taking his attention back to his breakfast, “You’re the one who’s never ready for me.”

“We’ll see about that on Friday.” With that, Harry took his place at the table and served himself from the house-elves’ cooking.

Snape had much more important things on his mind right now, but he welcomed the distraction. He rather think about dueling Potter than dealing with the Grangers at the moment. In fact, this was one of the things he looked forward to every year; showing Harry bloody Potter his place. He relished every opportunity to show Potter that he hasn’t learned his lessons, even after all these years.

Snape ate what he felt he could and left the Head Table to go back to the dungeons, only glancing at the boys chatting animatedly at the Gryffindor table when he passed by them. He berated himself for even this small gesture and left the hall cursing under his breath. 

Nathan was oblivious to the Potions master storming out of the Great Hall. He had his attention on the conversation rolling around him. They were having a heated discussion about flying broomsticks. Since their flying lessons had started last week, Josephina, who was terrified of brooms, had been questioning the effectiveness of said lessons. “I think we should have the right to choose if we want to have flying lessons or not. I hate flying!” she protested.

“I don’t know what there is to hate about flying! It’s the best sensation I’ve ever felt. The wind, the freedom…” said a dreamy Andy. He was passionate for brooms and Quidditch, just like his father.

“I understand what you’re saying, Jose. My mother never flew a broom since her flying lessons. I like flying, though,” Nathan stated

“I think flying is awesome! I think they should allow first-years to have their own brooms. I know Harry Potter did, and he played Quidditch in his first-year as well,” added Kevin, looking at Harry, who was talking with McGonagall near the Head Table.

“Yeah, that would be awesome!” agreed Andy. “I would want to play Keeper or Chaser. What position would you play, Nathan?”

“I don’t know. Uncle Harry says I’m probably too tall to play Seeker and Uncle Ron says I could be a good Keeper, but-” Nathan was cut off by a mocking voice coming from behind him.

“I don’t think you would play well in any position, Granger. What if the Bludger flees to the Forest? Would you call Harry Potter to get it for you?” Devon Malfoy was standing there, flanked by two other Slytherin first-years.

Nathan seemed unaffected by the mocking. He just turned in his seat to better look at Malfoy as if defying him to say more. When nothing else came, he turned back to the table and said, “If that’s the best you can do, Malfoy, I suggest you take your group back to the Slytherin table.”

That irritated Devon visibly. “You think you’re so smart, but you lose so many points from Gryffindor that not even all the stupid answers you give in class will be enough to compensate. We don’t even have to worry about the House Cup. Was it fifty points you lost yesterday?” Malfoy said then, and the Slytherins laughed.

All the students around them seemed to be very interested in the interaction. They had all stopped eating and chatting to watch Nathan and Devon exchange insults.

“That was better. Nice try,” Nathan said in retort, and turning once again to face Devon he added, “But I think I can recover those fifty points if I have to, which is more than I can say about you.” Nathan didn’t turn back this time. He stared at Malfoy, who stared back. The tension between them could be felt by the murmuring expectants.

Before anything bad could happen, McGonagall, followed by Harry, was breaking through the gathering that was forming around the boys. “What is the meaning of this?” the Headmistress asked. When she got no response from the boys on the verge of hexing each other, she approached the Slytherins. “I’ll ask you to go back to your table, Mr. Malfoy,” she said, and then added, “and that goes for the rest of you, too.”

They continued to glare at each other for a moment, and then the Slytherins left for their table without another word. Professor McGonagall was glaring at the remaining onlookers and they all went back to their meals in an instant. “Can someone explain what was going on here?” she asked, looking at Nathan, but it was Kevin who answered.

“Malfoy started it, Headmistress. He came here just to provoke Nathan,” he said.

“What did he say?” asked Harry, quite interested on what Nathan had to say.

“They were just mocking me,” said Nathan, dismissively. “It was nothing important.”

Neither Harry nor McGonagall were satisfied with that explanation, but didn’t inquire further. Harry eyed Nathan speculatively. The boy had a blank countenance that betrayed nothing. Nathan didn’t want Harry trying to protect him. He had heard every word of what Malfoy had said and it would only worsen the situation. No, Nathan would take care of it by himself.

Harry and McGonagall walked back to the Head Table and the level of noise went back to normal in the Great Hall. Nathan sighed and turned back to his friends. Nobody seemed willing to ask him anything. _Good_ , he thought, because he didn’t want to discuss it right now.

~o0oOo0o~

“I’ll expect this assignment by next week, not a day longer,” Hermione was saying to her class of Inorganic Chemistry students when the bell rang, signaling the end of the morning class.

The noise in the quiet classroom rose as the students gathered their things, discussing their plans for the rest of the day, and left for lunch. Hermione retreated to her desk to pack away her things as well. A few minutes after the last students had left, she heard a tap at the classroom door. She turned her head at the sound and found her colleague crossing the room toward her.

“Care to join me for lunch, Professor Granger?” he invited with a smile.

Professor William Brice, also a teacher and researcher in the Chemistry Department, was always very nice to Hermione. He was considerably new at the university and didn’t have many friends in the faculty yet.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?” Hermione agreed.

He approached the desk and took the books she had just packed into a pile. Hermione seemed on the verge of protesting but decided not to. “I think it’s your time to choose,” he answered, smiling at her. 

“Italian food, then,” she said, and they left the classroom and walked the corridors together to her office. She opened the door and left her class notes and students assignments over her desk. Professor Brice followed her and placed the books he was carrying next to those papers. Eyeing the amount of them on her desk, he said, “You sure like homework! You must have tons of essays to correct here.”

Hermione smiled. “I just think they help in the learning process.” And taking her purse and coat, she stated, “I’m ready, let’s go.”

They left the building and walked the few blocks that separated the university from the nice Italian restaurant Hermione sometimes ate at, immersed in animated conversation. They took a table by the window and a waiter came to them to take their order. 

While waiting for the food, they talked about several things related to their classes and research. They ate their meals and the conversation shifted to more personal topics. “I’ve heard your son is studying in a boarding school,” Brice said in a tone that displayed his curiosity.

“It’s the same school I went when I was his age. It’s a very respectful institution,” Hermione commented, hoping it was enough to change his interest to other subjects.

“You must be feeling a little lonely without him here,” he said, then.

Hermione was a little taken aback by the course this conversation seemed to be taking. “I miss him, of course, but I knew this time would come eventually. It always comes,” she admitted.

“So they say. If you need anything, you know you can come to me, don’t you?” he said looking into her eyes. Reaching for her hand resting on the table top, he added, “You don’t have to be alone, Hermione.”

She didn’t flinch from his touch but didn’t feel comfortable with it either. “I’ll have that in mind, William,” she managed, withdrawing her hand from under his. They paid the bill and left the restaurant. That exchange had left an awkward tension between them. Hermione couldn’t understand why she had shut him out like that. _He is a great man; intelligent, gentle, funny, handsome. So, why don’t I give him a chance?_

They had made all the way back to the university in this uncomfortable silence. She could see she had hurt his feelings. 

“I guess I’ll see you around,” he said in farewell.

“See you, William,” she said, and he moved away from where she stood in front of her office door. She observed him until he turned right and disappeared from her view. She sighed. _That was awful_ , she thought, entering her office. She didn’t have classes this afternoon, only assignments to grade, so she sat at her desk. She couldn’t understand why she didn’t feel interested by a man like William. _What is wrong with me?_ she reflected. _Isn’t William worth at least a chance? Why not?_ She didn’t know. 

She took the first pile of papers to grade and started to read the top one. She didn’t reach the middle of the page, though. Her mind was on what had happened during lunch. _Is it because he is a Muggle?_ She snorted at the thought. That was ridiculous! Of course she didn’t mind if he was magical or not. She was a Muggle-born, living in the Muggle world. _Why, then?_ she thought. All she knew was that it didn’t feel right; she didn’t want him.

_Who do I want, then?_ she questioned herself, and from nowhere the image of Severus Snape came to her mind and a light smile played on her lips. At least, until she realized what that meant, and then she gasped. _What the…_

~o0oOo0o~

Snape entered the Great Hall for lunch. He wouldn’t let the boy get to him; boy that was already there, he noted, and then frowned in disgust with himself for even noticing.

He was managing to ignore Nathan perfectly well until almost the end of the meal, when the boy approached the Head Table. 

“Professor Snape?” Nathan called.

Snape closed his eyes, hidden by the curtain of hair, before acknowledging him. “What do you want, Granger?” he spat.

“I want to know the time of today’s detention, sir.”

_Detention?_ Severus had forgotten that he had given Nathan detention, with all that had followed the statement of the punishment. But now everything came back. _A month of detentions_ , he remembered, frowning at the boy. “Meet me at seven in the classroom,” he stated simply.

“Yes, sir,” Nathan answered, and left to meet his friends by the door of the Great Hall.

Snape was left with the realization that he couldn’t avoid Nathan any longer. He had forgotten about the detentions but by seven, he would be prepared to face the boy. 

This little chat at lunch could be held responsible for many students leaving his afternoon classes in tears, and also for the lowering of the gemstone level in all the houses’ hourglasses by dinnertime. By the end of the day, Snape didn’t have a solution for the upcoming detention. He decided to skip dinner and retreated to his office.

At seven, already back at the Potions classroom, Snape heard a knock on the door. “Enter,” he said.

Nathan entered the room and started to advance to where the Potions master was, only to be interrupted by Snape. “Stay where you are, Mr. Granger,” he heard the professor say. “We are leaving for the Headmistress office to discuss your situation.”

Nathan frowned with the news. “Why, sir?” he asked.

“Must you question everything?” Snape said between gritted teeth, and without another word, he stormed past Nathan, leaving the classroom. Nathan hurried to keep up with the long steps of the Potions master.

They climbed the stairs that separated the dungeons from the tower where the Headmistress’ office was, in silence. By the gargoyles, Snape offered the password and they were lifted by the rotating staircase. Snape knocked and waited for the Headmistress to answer. When he heard McGonagall’s voice call _enter_ , he opened the door.

“What can I do for you, Severus?” she asked.

“I’m here to discuss Mr. Granger’s punishment for breaking the school rules and entering the Forbidden Forest. I’ve already deducted fifty points from his House and assigned a month of detentions,” he said to the Headmistress as if Nathan wasn’t there. “All I need is someone to supervise these detentions.”

“Why can’t you supervise them, Severus?” McGonagall asked, eyeing Snape with some surprise, “You are usually too eager to help in these matters, especially when the student is a Gryffindor.”

“It’s not my place to discipline Gryffindors, Minerva,” he stated in annoyance. “That’s Lupin’s job.”

Nathan wasn’t missing any word of that discussion. He was listening curiously as Snape tried to get rid of him. Nathan wasn’t the only one observing the Potions master intently; a pair of blue eyes was also on the man since his arrival.

“You know quite well that Lupin is unavailable at the moment,” McGonagall said, losing some of her patience with Severus.

“Then maybe you should take over Granger’s punishment personally,” Snape dared to say, showing how desperate he was.

McGonagall looked at Snape in disbelief. “I’m the Headmistress, and I don’t have time to supervise detentions! As Remus is unavailable, you’ll have to supervise his detentions yourself, Severus.”

There was no room for discussion. Snape let out a breath in a gesture of defeat. “Back to the dungeons, Mr. Granger,” he said, without looking at Nathan.

Nathan hesitated before turning to leave. It was the first time he had entered the Headmistress office and he was looking at everything with interest while listening to the professors’ discussion. There were many portraits hanging on the wall behind Professor McGonagall’s desk and all of them had their eyes on the two teachers… all but one. At first, he was observing Snape just like the others, but after a while his blue eyes shifted to look at Nathan. The portrait had smiled when Nathan was ordered to leave. 

He walked back to the dungeons reflecting on what was happening. _Professor Snape doesn’t want to supervise my detentions. Why? Is it because of the conversation we had yesterday?_ Nathan recalled the odd look on Snape’s face the other day. _He is avoiding me, and it’s because he knows something_.

Once he reached the dungeons, instead of waiting by the door, he decided it was better to go in. The classroom was barely lit. He seated himself by the workbench nearest to Professor Snape’s desk, looking for some distraction while waiting for the professor. He didn’t have to wait long, though.

Snape entered the room, visibly irritated. He walked to his desk and, without looking at Nathan, said, “Parchment and quill out, boy! You’re doing lines.”

Nathan looked at the Potions master for a moment before obeying. When he had the appointed material out of his bookbag, Professor Snape spoke again, “Take your things to the last workbench and write a hundred inches of _I must not break school rules_.”

Nathan didn’t question the order, but he did think it odd. _Why is he sending me to the end of the room?_ Taking his materials, he sat at the last workbench and started his task.

Snape had sent the boy to the back of the room. He didn’t want to be near him, but his mind had a different opinion. From time to time, he was convinced to lift his head and observe Nathan working on the lines, a gesture that was followed by the thoughts of hurting Hermione Granger as soon as he realized what he was doing. He didn’t leave his chair for the remaining of the detention, though.

One hour later, Nathan approached Snape, rolled parchment in hand. “I’ve finished, sir.”

Snape took the proffered roll. “Get out!”

Nathan fidgeted a little, like if wanting to say something, but left without a word.

Snape opened the parchment and read the line that repeated itself down the page: _I must not break school rules_. His eyes perused the whole one-hundred inches and stopped to read a different line at the very end. He narrowed his eyes. It read: _I must not break school rules. I disappointed you, Professor Snape. I promise not to be this stupid again. I’m sorry_.

He crushed the parchment.

~o0oOo0o~

By the same time the next day, Nathan and the others were hanging around in the Entrance Hall. Kevin and Andy had decided to keep Nathan company while he waited for the time of his detention.

“Do you think he’ll make you write lines again?” asked Andy.

“I don’t know. I hope not. It’s too boring to just sit there in that dark room, writing stupid lines,” Nathan complained.

“Would you prefer to clean cauldrons, like the last time?” asked Kevin.

“I guess I would. At least it’s more productive than lines,” Nathan answered.

They waited a little longer, until seven o'clock arrived. Kevin and Andy wished Nathan luck and left for Gryffindor Tower, while Nathan headed to the dungeons. He knocked at the Potions classroom door and waited. “Enter,” he heard.

“Good evening, Professor Snape,” Nathan greeted, and got no answer, as usual. He looked at the workbench he had used the day before and saw a cauldron there. He hesitated, not knowing if Snape wanted him to go to his desk or just stay at the last workbench. As the professor said nothing, Nathan advanced, stopping in front of the Potions master. “What is my task today?”

“First of all, what were you thinking when you disobeyed me yesterday?” Snape didn’t wait for an answer. “I thought I had been clear in your assignment Mr. Granger, but again you proved you’re not as smart as you think you are. What lines did I instruct you should write?”

“I must not break the school rules, sir,” Nathan answered.

“And was that what you wrote?” Snape asked then.

Nathan went quiet. He had written the lines, but then had added something else at the end. When he realized that Snape was going to berate him again, he spoke. “I wrote the required length of the lines as you demanded, sir, and I only added the other line after I had finished.”

Snape was rendered speechless. Nathan had surprised him once again. It was turning into a habit. _The boy is cunning_ , he thought. Frowning for recognizing yet another admirable quality in the boy, he ordered, “Clean that cauldron until it’s as shiny as a mirror. Do you think you can do that?”

“Yes, sir,” Nathan answered, lowering his head, and he walked back to the end of the room.

He cleaned the cauldron while Professor Snape graded some papers, or tried to. The same as the day before, from time to time Snape found himself observing Nathan. What he didn’t know was that he was being observed by the boy as well.

_Why the fuss about a simple apology?_ Nathan thought. _I thought he would like to know that I’m sorry he is spending all this time with me_. Resting his tired arms between long bouts of scrubbing, Nathan took a short moment to watch Snape. As a good observer, Nathan realized that Snape wasn’t really grading the papers, but just feigning it. Maybe this was the time to ask him.

“Professor Snape?” Nathan called.

“I hope you’re interrupting me to say you’ve finished.”

“I don’t think I’m interrupting you, sir,” Nathan said and without leaving space for a reprimand, he added, “I want to know if you’re all right, sir.”

“I was better when I didn’t have to deal with you, Granger,” Snape said between gritted teeth, spitting the name. And it was the absolute truth.

_So, he is angry with me_ , Nathan decided. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, sir. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“Didn’t you? Are you sure you didn’t plan this whole thing?” Snape’s voice was rising with each question. He rose from his seat. “I know what you were doing in the Forest, boy, and I honestly don’t think you did it out of generosity. Were you looking for detentions? Did you want to be stuck with me in this dungeon?” Severus was by Nathan’s side now. “I don’t know what you want from me, boy, but I want you to know that this little game – yours and your mother’s - ends here!” He was face to face with his son.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” Nathan said, confused. “I went to the Forest to get the unicorn hair, which was stupid, I admitted. But I did it to make you proud of me, and not to get detentions. I didn’t want to get stuck with you, sir, and I don’t know what game you’re talking about. My mother and I are doing nothing!” Nathan was angered at the mention of his mother. _Who does he think he is to talk about my mother like that?_

“So, you know nothing about your mother,” Snape stated. “Or me!”

“I know very little about you, sir, but you can’t say I don’t know my own mother,” Nathan answered, between gritted teeth.

“Then tell me who your father is,” Snape growled.

Nathan just stared at the man in front of him, fuming. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hurt him. 

Snape broke the staring contest first. He had been sure the boy knew the truth and was just playing with him. But now, he wasn’t so convinced.

He heard Nathan take a deep breath and say, “I should’ve known you would use this information against me. That’s what you do, right? That’s what Slytherins do. You use the knowledge of someone else’s weakness to your advantage,” his voice was low and hurt.

“I’ll finish cleaning the cauldron and be out of your dungeon, sir.”

And he watched as the boy quickly completed his task and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the side-stories! Let me know on your review! :0)
> 
> **Coming next…** It’s Halloween, and a duel is scheduled; and of course, more detentions.


	11. Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Halloween, and a duel is scheduled; and of course, more detentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eleven, I know! :0) It’s Halloween, and a duel is scheduled; and of course, more detentions. Who will win?
> 
> **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

Nathan was still upset when the next morning arrived. The way Professor Snape had used the fact that he didn’t know who his father was had hurt him deeply. He had trusted Snape because of his mother. All the things she had said about the Potions master had been enough for him; he had trusted Snape, only to have his trust used. Yes, he was really disappointed with Professor Snape. He was also mad at himself for letting his guard down.

That was how he felt when he entered the Potions classroom for yet another detention. He didn’t greet the man by the desk, as he usually did. He didn’t advance across the room to talk to him. He simply went to the workbench at the end of the room, determined to wait for Professor Snape to make the first move. It never came, though, because resting there on the workbench was a parchment with instructions for the evening’s task.

One hour had passed by the time he finished another hundred inches of lines. Nathan hadn’t said a word since he had arrived and neither had Professor Snape. He rolled the parchment and left it on the table where he had been working, rose from his seat and gathered his things. Without a look to the professor, who was reading at his desk across the room, Nathan left.

The same thing happened the following day. He entered, sat by the last workbench and found a parchment with instructions to write yet more lines. Nathan read the task and rolled his eyes, but didn’t express his contempt in any other way. He completed the task and left the dungeons after spending more than an hour in silent company with the Potions master, who had been grading essays.

Snape looked up from the sixth-year essays as soon as the door snapped closed, and he sighed in relief. Another detention had passed in absolute silence; not a word exchanged between Nathan and himself. Leaving his desk, he went to the workbench the boy had just vacated and retrieved the rolled parchment. He opened the scroll and confirmed its contents; again, only a repetition of the line he had assigned. _What was I expecting, more notes at the end of the parchment?_ He snorted at the thought. The boy knew better. 

Taking the roll with him back to his desk, Snape went back to grading. At least he tried. He had been thinking about the confrontation with Nathan ever since the event. At first, he had been glad to put the boy on his place, to show him he wasn’t the nice, honorable man they claimed him to be. But now, after two silent evenings, he was wondering what the boy was thinking. He remembered the hurt look on Nathan’s face and his accusations of using his weakness against him, and that bothered Snape. The moment he had asked Nathan to tell him his father’s name, he had expected the boy to admit his knowledge and his manipulating game. But he was wrong. Nathan didn’t know anything and had been hurt. By him.

Snape dropped the quill and raised his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to be bothered by what the boy thought of him. He didn’t want to think of the boy. He was fighting it, but he knew he was losing, and he didn’t like it one bit.

~o0oOo0o~

The following day was Friday, the day of the Halloween feast. Nathan was brought out of his melancholy mood, captivated by the excitement around him. He was determined to forget about Snape and have a good time with his friends. It was Halloween!

It was just after lunch and the first-years didn’t have classes on Friday afternoons. The common room was buzzing when Nathan and the others arrived back from lunch in the Great Hall. They found a free table and started a game of Exploding Snap, and even Nathan, who hardly had time to play because of the homework and, of course, the detentions, had joined this time. They were in the middle of the fun when a boy ran into the common room, panting as if he had run a marathon.

“It’s starting!” he shouted, and added after he had taken some much-needed breaths, “They’re out by the Quidditch pitch.”

There was a ripple of excitement through the room and everybody was suddenly rushing to leave. The first-years were looking at each other in confusion. 

“Aren’t you coming?” a third-year asked.

“Where are you going?” Kevin retorted.

“To the Quidditch pitch. Didn’t you hear? The duel is starting!” the third-year said, as if it was the most natural reaction to what was happening.

“A duel?” asked a wide-eyed Andy.

“Yeah! Let’s go, or we’ll miss it,” the boy answered and headed for the exit.

Andy was on his feet in the moment, and Kevin was following suit, but Nathan was still confused. “Wait a minute, who’s dueling?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but if a real duel is happening down there, I’m not missing it!” Andy said, already at the Fat Lady’s portrait.

Nathan’s curiosity wouldn’t let him stay behind. He rose and followed the other Gryffindors out to the castle grounds. He caught up with his friends by the magical stairs; it looked like the whole school was heading for the same place.

By the time he arrived at the Quidditch pitch, a great number of students were already there, mostly Slytherins. They were cheering while the Gryffindors were looking apprehensive. That wasn’t very reassuring, but it was nothing compared with the scene Nathan found when he finally broke through the crowd. Professor Snape and Harry Potter were aiming their wands at each other. Nathan paled.

A bright blue light was coming from Harry’s wand, but it was intercepted by an invisible barrier before reaching its target. Snape’s wand was moving with amazing speed and a red light burst from its tip, heading for Harry, who flicked his own wand, screaming, “ _Protego_!” and the red light dissipated with a bang.

Both wizards were too intent on watching each other to see Nathan standing nearby, becoming more distressed with each hex. “Someone has to stop it!” he said looking around. No one seemed to care, though. “Why aren’t you doing anything?” he asked the other students around him in exasperation. 

“There’s nothing to be done. They do it every year,” an older girl answered.

Nathan gasped, “Every year?” but he got no answer this time. Every eye was on the dueling wizards. 

Another flash of bright light caught Nathan’s eyes, bringing his attention back to the duel, too.

“ _Stupefy_!” he heard Harry cry. With a wave of his wand, Snape deflected the stunning hex. Harry flicked his wand then, saying, “ _Inanimatus Conjurus_!” and rocks were suddenly appearing from thin air in front of him. As soon as they were fully formed he cried, “ _Oppugno_!” and the rocks hurtled towards Snape. He was apparently expecting this, though, and with a single wave of his wand and a bored expression on his face, made the rocks disintegrate before they reached him. 

“Are you done with these children's hexes?” Snape said with a smirk.

Harry’s only answers were the narrowing of his eyes and another hex, which Snape once more deflected with ease, still smirking.

Snape didn’t wait for another attack and flicked his wand saying, “ _Serpensortia_!”

The snake slithered lazily in Harry’s direction, who seemed more irritated than worried about it, even though Snape was still smirking. “If you want to play with those first-year’s hexes, I may as well join you,” Snape mocked.

Nathan seemed worried, but Harry just hissed at the conjured snake, probably asking it to go back to Snape, who then blasted the animal with a flick of his wand. The whole school seemed to be watching now, there was a big circle of people around the dueling wizards and yet more people up in the stands. Nathan could even see some of his professors, but they didn’t seem keen to stop the fight, either; that made Nathan uncomfortable.

A couple more hexes were exchanged and things were getting worse. They seemed to be having more trouble deflecting each other’s attacks, especially Harry. The Slytherins were particularly pleased. Nathan could see the satisfaction on their faces; Malfoy looked like he was having the time of his life.

The blasting sounds and intensity of the lights were increasing. Harry seemed to have got a hex past Snape’s protection, but it wasn’t enough to take the older wizard out of the duel. Snape’s expression seemed more determined than ever. His eyes were fixed on Harry’s when he flicked his wand without uttering a word. A line of light escaped his wand’s tip in the direction of Harry, who seemed confident until the movement he made with his own wand failed to stop the light advancing. Nathan could see the expression of surprise on Harry’s face, and his heart skipped a beat. Ropes appeared from thin air, restraining Harry’s body and immobilizing him on the spot. He fell to the ground, bound.

Nathan opened his eyes wide, and then looked at the sneering Professor Snape, who was approaching Harry. Slytherins were cheering, Gryffindors and the other students were looking disappointed, but none seemed worried by Harry’s position on the ground. Nathan ran to his godfather and heard Professor Snape says, “You still don’t get it, Potter.”

“That one was tricky,” Harry admitted. “A modified Incarcerous that looked like a Levicorpus when cast; very Slytherin.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at that. “Maybe you are learning something after all,” and then added with another smirk, “but it’s still apparently not enough.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes and fought the ropes that bound him. Nathan, seeing that, said in a commanding tone, “Release Uncle Harry.”

Both older wizards suddenly noticed Nathan standing there. Harry spoke first, “Stay out of it, Nathan.”

But he didn’t care what Harry had to say. He was staring at Professor Snape in a commanding way, waiting to be obeyed. Snape was staring back, first with surprise and irritation, but now he seemed… amused. He didn’t say anything though.

Harry seemed worried. “Leave him alone, Snape,” he said.

That caught Snape’s attention. He looked at Harry and retorted, “Or what?” 

Apparently satisfied with Harry’s lack of response, Snape walked away, passing by Nathan as if he wasn’t even there.

Nathan didn’t seem the least worried with what Professor Snape could do to him. “I said, release my godfather,” he called to Snape’s retreating back.

That made Snape stop in his tracks. He stood still for a moment, not turning to look at Nathan and then, without a word, retrieved his wand and in a movement the ropes binding Harry were gone. Without a glance back, Snape strode quickly across the grounds and down to the dungeons. 

Harry was on his feet as soon as he was released, rubbing at his left arm. Nathan turned to him, “Are you all right, Uncle Harry?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Harry answered, visibly irritated. “I remember asking you to stay out of it.”

“Yeah, you did,” Nathan agreed, “But you were also lying on the ground, bound,” he added with a shrug.

“As much as I appreciate your concern, Nathan, I don’t want Snape to have reasons to be nasty to you, and I really don’t need you between the two of us,” Harry said in a very serious tone.

“Why were you dueling?” Nathan asked.

“We duel every year,” Harry answered vaguely.

“So I’ve heard, but why?” Nathan didn’t give up.

“It has to do with the war, Nathan. It’s not something you should be concerned about,” Harry finished.

Nathan shook his head. “One day, someone will have to tell me what really happened during this war. As much as you say it doesn’t concern me, it’s like I’m part of it somehow, and I’m the only one who doesn’t understand why,” he protested. He felt left out sometimes. 

They took the path to the castle. Some students were still lingering about, but most of them were back inside. A Gryffindor, probably a sixth-year, approached them. “You’ll get him next year, Mr. Potter.”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry answered nonchalantly.

Other students made similar comments and Harry responded the same way. McGonagall approached them. “When is this going to stop?” she asked, visibly annoyed. Harry ignored her, and she added, “This is getting more dangerous every year. You should know better, Mr. Potter.”

“You know it would be even worse if we didn’t know better than to really hurt each other,” Harry answered. “And I’ll get him next year. Maybe when I win, he’ll learn his place and stop being the bastard he is.”

“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall chastised.

Nathan had a surprised expression on his face, not for the swearing, but at learning Harry never won before. “You’re saying you never beaten Professor Snape in a duel?”

Harry didn’t answer right away. He seemed a little uncomfortable with the situation, even ashamed. “I’ll win next year,” he said firmly.

The Headmistress narrowed her eyes. 

Nathan was gaping, he knew, but knowing that his godfather, who was said to be the greatest wizard of his age, had been losing duels to Professor Snape for years, was too much. He couldn’t avoid his admiration for the Potions master growing even more, despite the actual thoughts of his dubious character. Professor Snape was really a great wizard, he admitted. 

They reached the Entrance Hall. Professor McGonagall and Harry went to her office. Nathan found his friends there and they went back to the common room. There was still some time until the Halloween feast.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus Snape was back in his office after winning another duel against Harry Potter. Normally, it was enough to make his week, but not this year. This year he had Granger to turn every moment that would otherwise be great into something miserable. Particularly in this case, Nathan was the responsible for his distress. He couldn’t erase a word from his mind: godfather.

“Harry bloody Potter,” he muttered. “It could have been any other person, but no. It had to be _Potter_!” He couldn’t stay still, even though his body needed some rest after the exertion of the duel. He started pacing the room. His son’s godfather was Harry Potter.

He tried to calm down. He didn’t have to bother with any of this, right? He didn’t have anything to do with the boy. _If his godfather is Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom, I couldn’t care less_ , he forced himself to think, but he couldn’t force himself to mean it. He cared, and it was consuming him.

His mind was so used to analyzing the various sides of a situation that he couldn’t refrain from wondering. If Harry Potter was Nathan’s godfather, and he - Severus Snape - the father of the boy, wasn’t playing his intended role, then it meant that Potter was filling his space in Nathan’s life, his space by right. It didn’t matter if he didn’t want to actually _be_ the boy’s father; it was all about Potter being the one substituting for him. That wouldn’t do!

He paced some more, and then sighed. He had to calm himself. Potter has been his son’s godfather for more than eleven years. That was nothing a couple of hours would change. He forced himself to sit down. _Why do I care?_ he mused, trying once again to deny he cared, but failing. He growled in annoyance.

_Hermione Granger knew I would never accept it_ , he thought. Why did she do it? His hands were in fists, like every time he thought of Hermione these days. “She’ll be lucky to live the next time I meet her,” he hissed between gritted teeth, then closed his eyes trying to regain his control. _How many more surprises does she have for me?_ he mused.

He wanted to stop thinking about that. He opened a book, read the same paragraph three times and closed it, annoyed. He reached for a stack of parchments on the left side of his desk – essays. He started grading them, and that seemed to divert his attention for a while.

One hour had passed and he was almost finished with the stack of essays when he heard someone at his door. He took a deep breath and said, “Enter.”

Harry Potter entered his office. _Just the man I wanted to meet_ , he thought sarcastically. He was preparing to dismiss him, but Potter was quicker.

“Before you start your lecture on how I don’t know anything, and how you’re so much better than me, you should know that I’m not here to talk about myself or the duel. I’m here to talk about Nathan,” Harry said, sitting in the chair across from Snape, even without an invitation, and giving the other man a look that dared Snape to disagree.

Snape reclined in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him. Inside, he was wondering how worse his evening could possibly become. Out loud, he merely said, “Be brief, I’m a busy man, Potter.”

Harry snorted. “Okay, to the point, then. Leave Nathan alone,” he said with a pointed look.

Snape looked at Potter for a moment, in silence. He was trying to suppress the urge to tell him that he had no right to ask that of the boy’s father. “I don’t think I understand what you mean, Potter,” he said instead, wishing his son’s godfather would give him a legitimate excuse to hex him.

“I meant exactly what I said, Snape. Don’t give him detentions for nothing, don’t take points from him because he breathed at the wrong time, and don’t give him grades below the Slytherins who did worse work, just because he’s Hermione’s son or my godson,” Harry said. “Leave him alone.”

Snape narrowed his eyes. “Are you insinuating that I’m being unfair with him because he’s your godson?” he said.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Harry confirmed.

“I didn’t even know he was your damned godson until this afternoon, and if he had detentions and points taken from precious Gryffindor, it’s because he’s as careless and mischievous as you were,” Snape said, leaning to stare at Potter’s green eyes from across the desk. “Don’t try to teach me how to discipline my students, Potter.”

“Well, you’ve been warned,” Harry said dismissively and left the chair he had been sitting in. “If I have to talk to you about this again, you won’t like it. Try to remember that Nathan has someone to look out for him, unlike myself,” he pointed out and left the room.

Snape growled. _The nerve!_ he thought. He took a deep breath and left his office with long strides towards his quarters. He still had the stupid Halloween feast to attend and another detention with his little nemesis before this day would be over.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan entered the Great Hall with his friends and was amazed at what he saw. Headmistress McGonagall had maintained Dumbledore’s tradition of decorating the room with live bats, candles and carved pumpkins. It was really impressive.

Most of the teachers were already at the Head Table, including Professor Snape. Harry had left Hogwarts before the feast; Nathan knew that because his godfather had come to say goodbye in the common room, causing something of a furor. It seemed that Harry’s defeat at the duel earlier hadn’t changed his hero image.

He glanced at the Slytherins, then. Their humor seemed to have improved after the duel. They were much more animated than normal, and from time to time they looked in Professor Snape’s direction and commented on something.

Nathan sat at the table across from Kevin; Andy took the spot to his left. They were really excited about the feast.

“It’s great, don’t you think?” Kevin asked, looking in astonishment at the enchanted ceiling covered with bats.

“Yeah, it is,” Nathan agreed. “Even though I’ve heard of it before, I didn’t imagine it would look like this.”

“Look at the size of that pumpkin!” Andy said, pointing at a particularly gigantic one.

“It’s really big,” Kevin agreed.

Their attention focused on the table when dinner was served. They ate a little of everything and drank a lot of pumpkin juice. When they were waiting for pudding, Nathan saw Kevin narrow his eyes at something behind him. He turned and found Devon Malfoy’s smirking face. He rolled his eyes and said, “Why I am not surprised?”

“Nice duel today, didn’t you think, Granger?” Malfoy asked.

“Yeah, it was,” he answered.

That seemed to throw Malfoy at bit. He recovered, though. “I always knew your dear godfather wasn’t all he claimed to be,” he said.

“I don’t remember him claiming to be anything. But then, you don’t even know him,” Nathan said evenly.

“I know Professor Snape, though, and he could beat Harry Potter with his eyes closed anytime he wanted,” Malfoy said then, apparently not used to losing an argument.

Before Nathan could come up with a retort, the very object of their discussion - Professor Snape - interrupted them.

“I thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Now back to your seat,” Snape said with a smirk, and then, looking at Nathan, he said, “Mr. Granger, we still have a detention after dinner, with or without Halloween.”

Nathan left right after dessert, walking down to the dungeons. He entered the classroom as he had done for the last two detentions, heading straight to the last workbench of the room. There it was – a parchment with instructions. He took the piece of paper and read it. “More lines?” he whined in a low voice.

“What did you say, Mr. Granger?” Snape asked, not expecting the boy to respond.

Nathan was tired of these boring detentions, so, feeling bold enough, he repeated, “More lines, sir?”

Snape let go of his quill and clasped his hands in front of him, resting them on the table top. “Are you complaining, Mr. Granger?” he asked and arched an eyebrow, daring him to answer _yes_.

“Well yes, sir. I thought we could use this time for something more productive than lines.” That was it; he had said it.

“I have some rather dirty cauldrons around here; would you prefer to clean them instead?” Snape asked with a smirk.

“In fact I would, sir,” Nathan answered simply.

If Snape was surprised, he didn’t show it. He retrieved his wand and flicked it, saying, “ _Accio_ cauldrons.” Two filthy cauldrons floated from the shelf and landed on the workbench in front of Snape’s desk. “There you go, Mr. Granger,” he said, smirking.

Nathan didn’t say anything, just went to the cauldrons and started to scrub them. Snape observed the boy from time to time with curiosity. The boy had the talent to intrigue him, he had to admit. 

Tired of fighting against his curiosity, and sick of pretending he was grading essays, Snape rose from his chair and walked to the front of his desk, leaning there with his arms crossed over his chest, facing Nathan.

The boy looked up, startled by the sudden movement. He stopped scrubbing for a moment but, as Professor Snape didn’t say anything, he went back to his task.

A few minutes later, though, Professor Snape broke the silence. “Tell me, Mr. Granger. Why did you confront me today at the Quidditch pitch?”

Nathan stopped scrubbing but didn’t look up. “I didn’t mean to confront you, sir. I just wanted you to free my godfather.”

“I see,” Snape said and moved from his reclined position to pace in front of his desk. “So, the great Harry Potter is your godfather. That should make things easier for you, I’m sure.”

“I grew up in the Muggle world, sir. It didn’t make any difference then, and nothing has changed now,” Nathan said, now looking at Snape.

Snape eyed the boy for a moment. “I’m sure things have changed, you must be quite respected in Gryffindor Tower for your association with heroes like him,” he pushed.

Nathan didn’t know where Professor Snape was going with the conversation. “People knew me before I knew them, but that’s all. I don’t know how it changes anything,” he said in response, and shrugged before going back to scrubbing the cauldron.

Snape moved closer to the boy. “You must be really fond of him to disrespect me like that.”

Nathan stopped his task again. “I never meant to disrespect you, sir. I’m sorry if you felt that I did.” He was starting to fell uneasy with Professor Snape’s unusual behavior.

“Would you like Mr. Potter to be your father?” Snape asked, unable to hold his tongue and berating himself the moment the words left his mouth.

Nathan looked up sharply. Professor Snape had turned his back to him, he watched that back for a long time. “He isn’t,” Nathan said quietly, looking back down. _He is not, is he?_ he thought uncertainly.

Snape could barely hear him. “No, he isn’t, but that was not my question.” He turned to face the boy, again. “Any boy would want to have a hero like Harry Potter for a father, and I don’t think you’re any different.”

Nathan was getting ever so confused with this crazy conversation. _Why is he telling me this? What does he mean?_ he thought. _Does he know who my father is? He must know, else why would he have been so clear in his affirmation that Harry_ isn’t _my father?_

Snape was back at his desk when Nathan decided to look up. Whatever he wanted to say wouldn’t come out. He finished cleaning the cauldrons in silence. Professor Snape knew who his father was. Nathan now knew it for sure.

When he turned from the workbench to approach the Potions master’s desk to say he was finished, Professor Snape spoke, “If you finished, just leave.”

And so he did.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione Granger was back home from a day of work. Later on, she was to attend a Halloween party hosted by one of the professors at the university. He and his wife hosted this party every year, and every year she refused their invitation with the excuse of taking Nathan trick-or-treating or to a party at a friend’s house. This year, though, Nathan was at Hogwarts and she had no excuse to avoid the event.

William had offered to pick her up so they could go together. She couldn’t come up with an excuse to refuse him, so she was now waiting for him to arrive. She had dressed up as Juliet, since William was going as Romeo. At first, she had rolled her eyes at the clichéd idea, but he had seemed happy with it, so she had agreed. She didn’t want to have to come up with something else, anyway. So, there she sat, dressed up in her transfigured dress, waiting and thinking.

Since her visit to Hogwarts, Severus Snape had been invading her dreams again. This time, though, they weren’t nightmares from the night she had been captured by the Death Eaters; they were dreams of those skillful hands touching her face, her hair. It was… troubling her. She respected him, yes. She admired him, of course. But this was different. This was new.

Severus Snape had always been part of her life, since her first day at Hogwarts. First, she had respected him for his knowledge and skills as a Potions master; later, she had admired him for his vision and power as a spy for the Order, then for his honor and courage in fulfilling his promise to Albus; finally, she had admired him for saving her life that night. Since then, he had been part of her life through Nathan, even if not physically present. And now…

Now, she didn’t know. She had met him again and suddenly he was appearing in her dreams. Not as her personal hero, either, but as something else, something more. _What did that mean?_ she thought to herself. Was she having fantasies of her ideal man in the form of the father of her son? Was it about the figure Severus represented, or was it the man Severus really was? Maybe she was overanalyzing those dreams and they represented nothing. _After all, interpreting dreams was something Trelawney would do, not me_ , she mentally chastised herself.

Trying not to analyze those dreams, though, was proving to be very difficult. She tried to think about other things, like her work, and her friends. But try as she might, she always came back to Severus’ hands in her dreams. Until a more solid distraction arrived; William was at the door.

She met him downstairs. He was gaping at the sight of her, and she blushed in embarrassment. He seemed to recover enough to bow theatrically and say, “ _For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night_. My Juliet, you’re as beautiful as the most brilliant star in the sky.” He smiled.

She couldn’t refrain from rolling her eyes at the silly courtship, but blushed nonetheless. “Well, thank you, Romeo. You look rather handsome yourself,” she said then, and accepted his outstretched hand. He guided her to his car and they left for the party.

Arriving at the appointed location, they were greeted by the hosts of the night. The house was cautiously decorated with carved pumpkins, fake cobwebs, and cauldrons filled with smoke from dry ice. She sighed, irritated with the memories they brought.

The house was full. She knew most of the people from the university. The music filled the rooms and there were couples dancing animatedly. William offered her a drink, which she accepted. It was a nice party, and a nice distraction for her mind.

The night went well. She chatted with some colleagues, she laughed at some pranks and she had danced with William, who was being really nice to her. He was a good distraction.

It was getting late and she was feeling tired. She called on William to take her home, and he promptly abided. They said their goodbyes and he drove her home. He stopped the car near the door to the building. “I enjoyed the evening immensely,” he said.

“I had a good time, too. Thank you for convincing me to go,” Hermione answered.

“My pleasure, dear Juliet,” he said, reaching for her hand and placing a light kiss on the back of it. He held her hand a little longer, while staring into her brown eyes.

An awkward silence fell upon them. Hermione broke the eye contact first, and looked at their united hands, withdrawing hers. “I’ll see you on Monday,” she said then.

He seemed a little disappointed when he answered, “Of course, Hermione.”

“Good night, then,” she offered and entered her building.

“Good night,” he answered to her back, and left.

Hermione closed the door behind her and sighed. She had lost the fight with her mind the moment she had shifted her eyes to the hand holding hers. It wasn’t his - it wasn’t Severus’ - and it felt wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snape won! Sorry if you were betting on Harry. Did you like the chapter? Let me know on your review! :0)
> 
> My fantastic beta, snarkyroxy, exceeded expectations this chapter correcting it really quick and presenting me with the quote William used to praise Hermione: “I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.” It’s from Shakespeare’s play _Romeo & Juliet_, Act I. I never read it myself. We, Portuguese-speaking people, study Camões’ _Os Lusíadas_ , instead. :0)
> 
> **Coming next…** A portrait has something to say; and guess, more detentions.


	12. Wisdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A portrait has something to say, and guess what? More detentions!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Twelve, finally! :0) A portrait has something to say, and guess what? More detentions! Yes, yes. :0)
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

Hermione woke up late that Saturday to the sound of an owl tapping at her bedroom window. She opened it for the bird, which had a letter attached to its feet – a letter from Nathan.

She had been expecting anxiously to hear from him since the day she had left Hogwarts after their night in the infirmary. She took the parchment and sat on the corner of the bed to read it. It said:

_**Dear Mum,** _

_**I’m perfectly fine. I know you must be thinking about me since the day you went back home. I’m feeling perfectly healthy and I’m eating all the vegetables, I swear.** _

That was a relief. She had been worried about Nathan’s recovery, and hearing he was fine was exactly what she needed. 

_**I’m attending a month of detentions with Professor Snape for entering the Forbidden Forest. He also took fifty points from me. I guess it’s only fair.** _

“A month alone with Severus!” she said to herself, using a hand to cover her open mouth, while the other held the letter. “Oh my God!”

She rose from the bed and started pacing beside it, forgetting the letter she was holding. It was highly improbable that her secret would survive a month of such intense daily contact, she was certain of it. _What am I going to do?_ she thought. _He’ll find out, and he’ll kill me!_

She went to the kitchen; she needed some water to calm herself. Her hands were shaking when she lifted the glass to her mouth. _He’ll never understand_ , she admitted mentally. She sat in a chair by the kitchen table, put an elbow on the top of it and held her forehead in her hand. She sighed. _What am I going to do?_ she thought again, not having an answer. _What is Severus going to do?_ she thought then. 

The thought of what he could do if he found out was concerning. Would he look for her right away? Would he tell Nathan? She didn’t know. _If he tells Nathan before talking with me, he’ll regret it!_ she silently promised.

She took several breaths to calm herself. It didn’t help to feel this way right now. All she knew was that they would spend a month together in detention. This month could end without them discovering anything. Another deep breath, and she went back to her room and retrieved the forgotten letter.

_**How was Halloween? Did you distribute a lot of candy? I didn’t get any this year, as you already know. There was a feast in the Great Hall and it was just like you, Uncle Ron, and Uncle Harry had said. All the live bats were awesome!** _

She smiled then.

 _ **There was also Uncle Harry’s duel with Professor Snape...**_

“What?” she exclaimed and kept reading to find out what was this duel all about.

_**…I didn’t even know there were so many hexes. Did you know Uncle Harry has never won? Yes, that surprised me, too, when he told me. But he said he’ll win next year, when they duel again; they do it every year.** _

“Harry duels Severus every year?” she said in astonishment, shaking her head in disbelief. _That’s unbelievable. When will they grow up?_ she though then, trying not to be mad with Harry for never telling her this.

_**Next weekend there will be the first Quidditch match of the year. Gryffindor will play against Slytherin, that’s all people are talking about since the feast yesterday. Andy says our team is much better than theirs, but I don’t know enough about Quidditch yet to be sure.** _

_**I miss you very much. I can’t wait for the Christmas break so we can be together again.** _

_**Love,** _

_**Nathan** _

She finished reading the letter with a sigh. She was looking forward Christmas, too. Would her secret survive until then? There was nothing she could do now but wait. Well, maybe she could do more than that. She left for her study and started to write a letter to her son.

~o0oOo0o~

The last detention left Nathan with a lot to think about. He was now sure Professor Snape knew more about his father than he had predicted, and since his departure from the dungeons the day before, he was trying to find a way to get to this knowledge. He had missed breakfast, preferring to lay thinking in the quiet dormitory and had done so by dismissing his best friends, who had called him several times before giving up.

By dinner time, Nathan had a plan outlined. He would indulge in Professor Snape’s little game. He would stick with what the older wizard said, regardless of its lack of sense. If his train of thoughts was right, it would make sense eventually, and he would find out whatever Professor Snape knew.

So, with that in mind, Nathan entered the Potions classroom that evening and headed straight to Professor Snape’s desk, where the man sat. “Good evening, Professor Snape,” he said, not waiting for an answer he knew wasn’t coming. “I have the answer to your question.”

That statement took the Potions master’s attention from the book he was pretending to read. He narrowed his eyes and looked at his son speculatively. The boy couldn’t be referring to what he had asked the day before, could he? Severus had chastised himself for what remained of the previous evening for his weakness in even bringing up that subject during their last detention - asking if Nathan would like Potter to be his father.

And Severus was now convinced of his mistake. _Did he say he has an answer?_ he thought, trying to raise a doubt he knew was unfounded. That was exactly what the boy had said, that he had an answer to his question. His thoughts were interrupted by Nathan.

“I would like it if Uncle Harry were my father, but we both know he isn’t,” Nathan said evenly, “so I think what you meant to ask was whether I would want my father to be like Harry Potter.” He paused, searching those narrowed black eyes for a confirmation and, taking the Potions master’s lack of reaction as an affirmation, he continued, “and the answer is yes.

“Who wouldn’t want his father to be an honorable and powerful wizard like him? He is courageous and intelligent,” he said. Then, with a touch of humor, he added, “although I doubt that sometimes.”

Severus relaxed his eyes with that last statement. 

“Does that answer your question, sir?” Nathan asked.

The Potions master gave a short nod in response, not having anything safe to say in response. He proceeded to a safer subject and said, “I have some frogs that need to be prepared. They are in the box.” He gestured to the object and saw Nathan follow his move with his head. “You’ll separate every useful part on the different recipients. Legs, eyes, brain and skin,” he detailed.

Nathan looked back at him, smiling lightly. _Is he… happy with the assignment?_ Severus asked himself, trying to understand what that odd reaction to dissecting frogs was. His doubts were emended by the boy’s next words.

“How do I do it properly? I would love to learn how to extract all those ingredients from a single frog!” Nathan said enthusiastically.

Severus rolled his eyes. The boy was just like his mother where new knowledge was concerned, _and like myself_ , he added mentally. He stood from his desk and went to the workbench, with Nathan right behind him. He took a sharp knife and a dead frog from the box and lectured to the boy, who was attentively watching his every move. “First, you cut the legs on their joints like this,” he said, demonstrating. “The next step is opening the frog and taking its insides out, leaving only the head untouched. The skin must be intact.” He showed every move with precision. Nathan watched fascinated. “You must then remove its eyes without perforating them, and only then you may remove the brain,” he added, finishing the first frog ever so cautiously. 

“My turn,” offered Nathan with enthusiasm, stretching his hands to take the knife from Professor Snape, who flicked his eyes to the boy’s hand and arched an eyebrow. Taking only a moment to disguise his amusement, he delivered the sharp tool. He was turning to leave the boy to the task when he heard, “Watch to see if I’m doing it right, sir.”

He turned back and watched his son handle the knife just as he had done, and cut off the frog’s legs with amazing steadiness. Nathan had cleaned the amphibious’ body and was starting with the extraction of the first eye when he hesitated for the first time, trying to find the right angle for the knife. When he had finally decided on the wrong one, Severus said, “You’ll damage the eye. Angle the knife more.” Nathan did just that and looked up to his professor for confirmation. Severus moved his right hand over Nathan’s and repositioned it to the right angle. Nathan finished the first frog without further difficulties.

“How was that?” Nathan asked, anticipation in his shiny black eyes.

“Acceptable,” Severus answered. “Do the same with the remaining frogs.”

Nathan nodded, still smiling madly.

More than an hour passed while Nathan went about his work. Severus read a book at his desk, but after every other paragraph his mind got lost in an uproar of thoughts. He had enjoyed showing his son how to perform the task properly; he had been… proud of the boy’s skill and rapid learning, and he had been stunned by the boy’s behavior when he had first addressed him today. He hadn’t been expecting an answer to the question he had let slip, of all things. He had been expecting a brooding boy with hatred for him written in his eyes, and not this smiling, enthusiastic version now preparing ingredients.

 _Damn the boy!_ he cursed mentally. Nathan was unpredictable, and it was not a good thing. He didn’t know what was on the boy’s mind and it was killing him. Tired of that mental torture he closed the book and addressed his son, “You can finish the task tomorrow. You’re dismissed.”

Nathan stopped in his motion, startled by the sound of Professor Snape’s voice. “I’ll finish this one before I go,” he said.

“I said you can finish tomorrow. Now, go!” the Potions master said, more forcefully.

Nathan raised his eyebrows at that and slowly released the knife and the half mutilated frog on the workbench. It was impossible to understand Professor Snape’s behavior. One moment, he was teaching him how to extract frog’s eyes, the next, he was shooing him from his classroom without room for questioning.

Remembering his plan to play along, Nathan didn’t complain and left the classroom with a muttered, “Good night.”

The following day, Sunday, an owl dropped a letter on Nathan’s plate of eggs. He smiled, seeing it was from his mother.

_**Dear Nathan,** _

_**I’m glad to hear you’re completely recovered. Keep eating your vegetables and don’t go to sleep very late; you need to rest full nights.** _

_**You deserved the points you lost and also the detentions. Why is Professor Snape supervising them? He is the Head of Slytherin, not Gryffindor. You should go to the Headmistress and ask if Professor Lupin couldn’t take over now that he’s back.** _

_Why is everybody trying to get Professor Snape from supervising my detentions?_ Nathan thought, remembering what Andy had said when he had found out about it, too. Even Professor Snape had tried to get rid of him. But Nathan wasn’t interested on changing his supervisor, not now that he knew Professor Snape had important information about his father.

_**Halloween wasn’t the same without you. I went to a party but there weren’t real bats there, only fake skeletons and cauldrons, and it wouldn’t do to Conjure any, right?** _

_No_ , Nathan thought, smiling.

_**I should have known that Harry would do something as stupid as dueling Professor Snape; they never got along very well. It doesn’t surprise me that Harry had never won, either. Professor Snape is a very powerful wizard, and I don’t think he’ll lose anytime soon. In fact, if it depends on me, there won’t be another time.** _

“Oops!” Nathan exclaimed.

“What is it?” Kevin asked.

“I think Uncle Harry is in trouble. I told my mum about the annual duel and she said she’ll stop them. If I know my mum, she won’t rest until Uncle Harry promises her he’ll never duel Professor Snape again,” Nathan explained.

“And do you think he’ll listen to her?” Kevin asked then.

“I don’t know. He normally does, but he seemed really determined to win the next duel.”

“I hope he won’t listen. I want to see another duel like that!” Andy said.

Nathan continued to read the letter, after taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

_**Are you excited for the Quidditch match, then? You’d make Ron proud. I miss you so much. I’m looking forward to the Christmas break, too. I’ll start to make the arrangements for a great holiday.** _

_**Love,** _

_**Mum** _

Nathan smiled. Christmas was his favorite holiday and he was looking forward to what his mother would be preparing this year.

The day passed without any unusual events. Nathan worked on his homework, and played with his friends in the common room, since the rain wasn’t encouraging any outdoor activity.

When evening arrived, the detention resumed as if nothing had happened. Nathan went back to the box of frogs and Professor Snape to his potions texts. Nathan worked like the day before, in silence, although he had many questions he’d like to ask the man reading at the desk across the room from him. He narrowed his eyes, trying to read the title of Professor Snape’s book, but couldn’t decipher it from that distance. 

Nathan prepared some more frogs, but he was getting bored with the task. Once the newness of the knowledge learned had worn off, dissecting frogs wasn’t that fascinating anymore. There were a few more to go, though. He sighed.

Taking a rest from the task, Nathan thought it was a good time to start a conversation with the Potions master. Another part of his big plan was to make Professor Snape talk, no matter the subject. He had admitted that he would never get anything from his professor if he couldn’t make the man speak to him.

“What are you reading, sir?” Nathan asked.

Snape looked from over the top of his book, watching the boy intently. “Go back to work, Mr. Granger.”

“Yes, sir,” Nathan said, disappointed with his failure to engage his professor in conversation.

Not wanting to give up yet, Nathan tried again a couple of frogs later, “Do you read other books, sir? I mean, not related to potions?”

“Why, Mr. Granger? The frogs are not interesting anymore?” Snape asked, showing his annoyance with the questions.

Nathan could sense the annoyance in the Potions master’s tone, but he didn’t care. He had achieved what he had intended; Professor Snape was talking. “Not really,” he answered then, keeping to his plan.

Professor Snape lowered the book, keeping a finger marking the page he had been reading, and looked at Nathan. “That’s why this is a task for a detention, Mr. Granger,” he said simply, and kept staring at the boy, defying him to say something else.

“Right,” Nathan said.

“We can always go back to lines, if that’s what you want?” Snape offered, smirking.

“No, I’m fine with the frogs, sir,” Nathan answered, quickly. “I was just curious to what you’re always reading, sir, that’s all.”

“Keep your curiosity to yourself, Mr. Granger, and go back to work,” Snape snarled.

But Nathan wasn’t ready to end up the conversation yet. “I like reading all kinds of books,” he said, after some silence. 

Snape was back pretending to read and didn’t acknowledge Nathan’s words. 

The boy persisted. “The potions books are among my favorites. There are so many in the library… I’d like to read them all,” Nathan said in a dreamy voice.

The tone on his son’s voice caught Severus’ attention, and he looked up from his book again. The boy had an expression of longing that lasted only a moment before it changed back to one of concentration as Nathan went back to work. Severus felt his lips curving at the edges of his mouth at this demonstration of passion for books; the moment was short-lived, as he twisted his mouth in disgust at himself when he realized what was happening.

He didn’t care if the boy was intelligent. He didn’t care if the boy was talented in Potions. He didn’t care if the boy was intriguing. He didn’t care if this boy was his son. He didn’t want to care. He couldn’t care less, right? 

Wrong.

He cared and he knew it. He cared and that was paining him. He cared, but he didn’t want to care, and he wouldn’t. That was it! These detentions had to end. He would have to end them! 

He rose abruptly, startling Nathan. He went to where the boy was standing and addressed him. “That’s enough for today, Mr. Granger.”

Nathan was surprised by Professor Snape’s reaction. He couldn’t understand what was wrong now, and there were still a few frogs to prepare. “But there are-”

“The ingredients you prepared are sufficient for the school needs. You can leave now,” Professor Snape anticipated.

Nathan just looked at Professor Snape, searching for the motivations behind such behavior, but found none. Believing in his plan, he kept his questions to himself and prepared to leave, while the Potions master observed him from near the edge of the workbench.

He took his things and headed for the door with Professor Snape on his heels. He thought it odd, but tried to keep in mind that he would understand everything sooner or later. The Potions master left the classroom with him, but didn’t follow him after that, leaving Nathan behind with his long strides. The boy narrowed his eyes in confusion, then shrugged and made his way to Gryffindor Tower.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus strode quickly through the corridors, ignoring the students ducking out of his way. He was going straight to the Headmistress’ office to end these disturbing detentions.

He gave the password to the gargoyle and climbed the rotating stairs. He knocked and waited to be admitted by Minerva. As soon as she acknowledged his presence, Severus entered the circular room and walked directly to stand in front of the Headmistress’ desk, where she sat.

Professor McGonagall abandoned her quill and intercrossed her fingers, resting them on the desktop, and looked at the man towering over her. “Have a seat, Severus,” she said. “Would you like some tea?”

Severus lowered his slim body into one of the armchairs facing the desk. “Minerva, I’m here to discuss Mr. Granger’s detention arrangements. I can’t supervise them any longer, and now that Lupin is back, I’m sure he’ll comply with his duty and discipline his Gryffindors.”

Professor McGonagall sighed. “I can’t understand you, Severus. I can’t remember a single detention you’ve declined to supervise, and yet it’s the second time you’ve tried to refuse to supervise Mr. Granger’s,” she said, observing the Potions master with narrowed eyes. “What is going on between the two of you?”

“There is nothing going on between myself and any student,” he retorted in annoyance. “I have other things I’d rather be doing instead of supervising a Gryffindor’s detentions. It’s Lupin’s job,” he stated.

McGonagall wasn’t convinced. “Give me a good reason to transfer his detentions to another professor.”

He had many reasons for wanting to get rid of those detentions. The boy’s annoying presence was one; his impertinent questions and comments were another; Nathan’s resemblance of his mother was a good reason, too; but mainly because his son was bringing about strange feelings which Severus didn’t want to deal with. He couldn’t say any of those things, though; “I have my reasons,” he said instead.

“I’m sure you have,” said an annoyed Minerva. “I want to know what they might be.”

“Minerva, I-” he started to answer when the door opened and admitted a seventh-year – the Head Girl.

“Headmistress,” the girl said, breathing frantically as if she had run all the way up there. “Peeves has inundated the sixth floor corridor with that bluish liquid again, and he was heading to the stairs with another bucket of it when I left!”

“Oh, I would kill him if he wasn’t already dead,” McGonagall muttered under her breath. She crossed the room and left with her students, totally forgetting about the Potions master for the moment.

Severus didn’t follow the Headmistress. He was tired of Peeves’ pranks, and could use the time to think of a reason to end his suffering, a reason he could tell Minerva without exposing his position as the boy’s father.

Ten minutes had passed in the silence of the round office, and McGonagall hadn’t come back yet; another ten minutes and there was still no sign that the Headmistress was returning. Snape was getting tired of waiting and thinking. He hadn’t come up with a single, plausible excuse to end the detentions. The snoring of the snoozing portraits was irritating him further. He stood from the armchair and walked to the door, when he heard a voice from behind him.

“Severus.”

Snape hesitated just a second before ignoring the call, and he continued his way out of the office, until he heard that well known voice again.

“Don’t push your son away.”

Frozen in place, Severus closed his eyes. He turned to meet the blue ones of the figure in the portrait – Albus Dumbledore. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I have no son and I don’t listen to portraits,” Severus said quietly.

“He reminds me remarkably of you when you were his age,” the late Headmaster said, ignoring Severus’ comments. “But I’ve noticed that he’s a Gryffindor, unlike you. Must be his mother’s doing, then,” the portrait added in amusement, eyes twinkling.

“I don’t have to keep listening to a Confunded old portrait,” Snape muttered, but couldn’t bring himself to walk out the cylindrical room. 

“If he’s anything like his parents, he must be an extraordinary boy. The combination of his parents could only result in a great wizard, I’m sure,” the picture hanging behind the desk continued. “He must be an excellent student. Is he talented in Potions?”

Severus sighed. “He’s very talented and intelligent,” he admitted, his voice only slightly higher than a whisper as he averted his eyes from the figure squared by the gold frames.

The portrait smiled at his friend’s shy admission, and then sobered. “Why are you pushing him away, Severus?”

There was silence in the circular office. Severus was feeling very uncomfortable with the conversation. He rarely talked with Albus’ portrait, and this wasn’t a subject he would pick.

“I don’t think that is any concern for a portrait,” Severus said.

“It’s the second time you’ve tried to pass off his detentions. If I’m right, based on my observations, he doesn’t know you’re his father… am I right?” Albus said, ignoring Severus rude comments.

“I’m not his father!” Severus snarled.

“Severus, you can’t deny it forever. You have a son and you should be using the time you spend with him in detentions to get to know him better,” portrait-Dumbledore said. “Have you talked with Hermione about it?”

Severus returned to the armchair he had sat in whilst talking to the Headmistress. “I don’t want to kill her after all the trouble I had to save her,” he said then, his sarcastic tone not enough to disguise his real anger, shown by his fisting hands.

“Then don’t.”

Severus looked to the portrait. “I can’t ignore what she did! She betrayed me and hid him from me. She shouldn’t have done that!” he snarled.

“Ah, so that’s the problem,” Albus said. “Hermione must have had her reasons to act the way she did, and you’ll only find out what they were when you talk to her. But it still doesn’t explain why you’re pushing your boy away, Severus.”

“He’s not _my boy_!” Severus said in disgust. “I don’t want a son, I never did. If she thought she could have one without my consent, that’s her problem. I. Don’t. Want. A. Son,” he emphasized, word by word.

“You’re losing the fight, aren’t you?” the portrait said, his eyes twinkling. Severus gave him a look of contempt at these words. “That’s why you’re trying to push him away.” 

“Let me tell you something, Severus; it won’t work. You’ll still want to know what he likes, who his friends are, what he does when he’s not in classes, what books he reads, even if you’re not supervising his detentions.”

“It’ll work. It has to work because I don’t want anything to do with him. I don’t want a son.”

“That is not an option anymore, my boy. You already have a son,” Albus said and smiled.

Severus was showing his disgust for portrait-Albus words. The damned drawing was right, proving it was an accurate copy of his long lost mentor. He sighed. “I can’t be the father he deserves Albus,” he said, shaking his head in denial. “He dreams of a different father.”

“How do you know what kind of father he wants?”

“Because he told me,” Severus pointed out. 

“What exactly did he say?” Dumbledore asked.

“That he would like to have _Potter_ as his father,” Severus spat the name of his son’s godfather. “He dreams of a hero, Albus, not a criminal murderer like me. I know what I am, and he’s better off without me.”

“You’re not a criminal murderer, Severus,” Albus said in reprimand.

“That’s why I don’t talk to you!” Severus said in exasperation. “You’re only a shadow of the man you were created to represent. The real Albus would know who I really am – a man who did too much and is beyond redemption. That’s not how I picture a father!”

The figure in the portrait shook his head. “So many years have passed, my boy, and you still don’t believe you’re worthy of being respected and loved.

“I don’t know the nature of your relationship with Hermione, but I believe that if she had a son of yours, she must have had good reason.”

“There is no relationship,” Severus snarled, “and she’s the only one to be blamed for her wrong choices. She ruined her life and now she is ruining mine, too. Stupid witch!” he cursed.

“Now, Severus, it can’t be that bad!” Albus chastised. “I’m sure Hermione made the right choice. Your boy, Nathan, doesn’t seem a mistake to me.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re just a meddling old portrait who should keep your opinions to yourself,” Severus said, raising himself from the armchair and heading for the door. This time he didn’t look back as he left the room, almost knocking back a surprised Minerva, who was on the verge of opening the door from the outside.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan approached the table where his friends were gathered in the common room, after being shooed from his detention. As they noticed his presence, they stopped talking abruptly. That didn’t past unnoticed by Nathan, but he said nothing.

He sat in the free armchair. There was silence between them for an awkward moment until he decided to break the ice. “What were you talking about?” he asked.

The two boys looked at each other. Andy said, “We were discussing the Quidditch match.”

Nathan looked from Andy to Kevin. Something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t tell what it was. “What about it?” he asked then.

“Oh, the same things we were discussing earlier, you know,” Andy said, waving a hand dismissively. “I don’t think the Slytherins have a chance against us!”

“Exactly!” agreed Kevin.

Nathan looked at them once again before letting it go. “I hope we win,” he said. He wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn he heard Kevin sigh.

They talked more about Quidditch, then a little about homework – a subject extremely annoying in Andy’s opinion. Nathan was getting sleepy in spite of the animated conversation. After his third consecutive yawn, he announced, “I’m a little tired. I think I’m going to sleep.” He stood up. “Good night.”

His friends answered with their good-nights and Nathan climbed the stairs. From the top step he turned back to the common room and saw Andy and Kevin muttering something to each other. He narrowed his eyes. _Odd_ , he thought. His friends were hiding something from him; he could feel it. But he wasn’t going to discover anything right now; he was too tired for that. He would find out tomorrow. He’d keep an eye on them.

In the morning, they acted as if nothing was going on. They went to breakfast together, and then to the dungeons for their Potions class. Half of the students were already in the classroom when they arrived. They walked to their usual seats, waiting for Professor Snape.

They didn’t have to wait too long. The Potions master stormed the room, already taking points from Gryffindor because Josie wasn’t in her seat at that exactly moment. That left everyone quiet for the remainder of the class.

Nathan was taken aback by Professor Snape’s behavior. _What’s wrong with him?_ he thought, observing the brooding man working on essays by his desk in the front of the room. Nathan had finished his potion earlier than his classmates, as usual, and was using the remainder of the class to observe the Potions master.

Andy looked up from his cauldron and noticed Nathan observing Snape. He elbowed Kevin, who was working by his side, and almost made him drop a whole piece of daisy root on his cauldron instead of the required slice. “What’s wrong with you?” Kevin asked in a hissed mutter, annoyed with the interruption. Andy only pointed at Nathan with a jerk of his head, and Kevin followed his gaze and nodded.

The class finished with a total loss of twenty points from Gryffindor. Nathan commented on it while he headed to the Defense classroom with his friends. “What was Professor Snape so annoyed about?”

Kevin and Andy looked at each other in that weird way again. 

“I don’t know,” Andy answered.

“If you don’t know, how would we?” said Kevin with a shrug.

 _What was that supposed to mean?_ Nathan thought. His friends were getting weirder and weirder, and he still didn’t know why. He ignored the odd response and entered Professor Lupin’s classroom.

That class went smoothly. Now, with Professor Lupin teaching again, the class was back to its normal pace. At the end of the lesson, Nathan heard his professor say, “Nathan, a word if you please.”

Nathan looked at his friends. They nodded that they would wait for him in the corridor and left the room with the others. Nathan approached Professor Lupin’s desk. “Yes, sir?”

“I’ve heard you got yourself into trouble while I was away,” Lupin said.

Nathan lowered his head. “I went to the Forest when I wasn’t supposed to. I’m having detentions with Professor Snape, sir.”

“So I’ve heard,” the werewolf said. “I also heard you went to the Forest in search of unicorns, and that you did so just to impress Professor Snape and get some house points from him, is that right?”

“Yes, sir. Kind of,” Nathan admitted. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad at you. A little disappointed, maybe, but not mad. We talked about Professor Snape before and I thought you understood that he didn’t recognize hard work the same way other teachers do.”

“I understood. I’ve learned the lesson, sir,” Nathan said. “I’m not doing anything that stupid again.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Lupin nodded in satisfaction. “That was all I wanted to hear from you. I think your friends are waiting outside.” He gripped Nathan’s shoulder in a show of affection and accompanied him to the door. “If there’s anything bothering you, I want you to come to me. And try to keep out of trouble during the full moon,” he added with a smile.

Nathan nodded and left the classroom. He met with his friends at the end of the corridor. They were again muttering at each other and stopped as soon as they saw Nathan approaching. They went to lunch and Nathan didn’t press the matter.

During the afternoon classes, the three of them were distracted by the practical work required for Herbology, but that distraction was gone when they entered the History of Magic classroom. It was impossible to not get bored during that class, and while most of the students slept, Nathan wondered about everything that was going on, specifically, his friends’ and Professor Snape’s odd behavior. 

The classes were finished for the day. Dinner was good, and at the end of the meal, the trio separated by the Entrance Hall. Kevin and Andy went up to the library, while Nathan went down the stairs leading to the dungeons for yet another detention.

“Scrub those cauldrons,” Professor Snape said as soon as Nathan entered his classroom.

Nathan sighed at the retrocession of the detention’s task. He was looking forward to more ingredient preparation or something of the sorts, but was back to cleaning filthy cauldrons instead.

He tried to engage Professor Snape in conversation later in the evening, but decided against it after a couple of very nasty remarks from his teacher. The Potions master wasn’t in one of his best moods, as Nathan had suspected since the Potions class that morning.

As it was, he left the dungeon after a couple of hours of hard work and headed for Gryffindor Tower where he met his friends. They didn’t ask about his detention; maybe it was because of the amount of homework they had due tomorrow.

The next day, everything seemed normal. Breakfast, Charms, flying lessons – which was turning out to be a fun class – lunch, Transfiguration, homework, dinner, and detention with Professor Snape.

That evening, Professor Snape had assigned him to work in the storage room, alone. He had spent only the necessary time to explain the task and then had left for the classroom.

Nathan had managed to make the inventory of half of the Potions ingredients by the time he had heard Professor Snape’s voice call his detention off for the night from where he was sitting at his desk in the Potions classroom.

He walked back into the classroom with his many parchments of notes in hand and stood by the Potions master desk. “I’m in the middle of the inventory. I guess I’ll finish it tomorrow,” he said, handing the professor his notes.

Professor Snape read through the notes and was impressed by the amount of detailed information it contained, although his countenance showed no emotion. “Yes,” he said simply.

Nathan turned to leave, but hesitated. “Would you mind if I ask you something, sir?”

“Didn’t you just ask anyway?” Professor Snape retorted.

Nathan smirked. “I guess I did,” he admitted. “What’s that greenish unlabeled potion that’s inside that wooden box on the highest shelf in the storage room?” he asked then.

The Potions master expression darkened as he stood up and came around the desk to stand in front of Nathan. “Have you touched it?” he asked.

His professor’s urgency startled Nathan. “I touched the vial. It was sticky,” he answered.

“Give me your hands,” Snape urged, and as Nathan extended his hands towards his professor, he grabbed them and examined his palms.

That motion surprised Nathan even more. “What’s in the vial?” he asked.

“Did you open it?” Professor Snape asked, ignoring Nathan’s inquiry.

“Yes,” the boy answered simply.

Snape looked up the moment he heard the affirmative answer. He released the hand occupying his right one and held his son’s chin between two fingers, tilting Nathan’s head up to examine his eyes. “Did you inhale it?”

“Not directly,” Nathan said.

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes. Letting go of the other hand he was still holding, he used his now free fingers to rub the skin under the boy’s eyes, looking for signs of irritation, but found none. “You shouldn’t open vials if you don’t know what they contain!” he snarled then, freeing Nathan from his grip rather rudely and turning away from the boy in visible irritation.

His change from concerned to tempestuous left Nathan not knowing what to say. “I… I didn’t…” he faltered. 

“Five points from Gryffindor Mr. Granger, for your lack of common sense and caution when dealing with unknown substances!” the Potions master snapped. “You could have poisoned yourself!”

Nathan was gapping at Professor Snape. _What the…_ he thought, frowning. “It wasn’t my fault! It was unlabeled and I was making an inventory. What was I supposed to do?” he asked in exasperation, now irritated with his professor for the loss of house points.

“Leave it, show me, or ask me,” Snape said, turning to face his son, “but never open it! Never open a vial of potion if you don’t know its content! Do you understand me?”

The intensity in Professor Snape’s eyes was unsettling. “Yes, sir,” Nathan answered quietly and then averted his eyes from his professor’s.

Severus turned his back to Nathan. “Go back to Gryffindor Tower, Mr. Granger,” he said quietly. When he heard the door click shut, he closed his eyes raised his fingers to rub at his temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the longer chapter. Let me know what you thought of it. Leave me a review! :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** The Quidditch match and… detentions?


	13. Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detentions, friends and a Quidditch match; it's all driving Severus and Nathan to the edge!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Thirteen! :0) The Quidditch match and… detentions? Oh, and so much more than that… :0)
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

Nathan was dismayed by Professor Snape’s reaction to him opening the vial of green potion. _Does he really think I’d be careless enough to smell it directly?_ Nathan thought, shaking his head. _Of course not! My mother thought me better than that!_ He had used the technique Hermione had taught him for identifying unlabeled substances. He had opened the vial and waved a hand over it, trying to identify the substance by its odor. He hadn’t had the time to explain that to his professor, though. He had been shooed out of the dungeons again. 

He sighed. The man was impossible! Nothing was ever good enough for him. There was always something Nathan was doing wrong, no matter how hard he tried; and he was trying very hard. _Maybe too hard_ , Nathan mused. He was getting tired of these detentions, and of dealing with Professor Snape. Maybe he should look for the Headmistress and ask to serve his detention with another teacher, like his mother had suggested.

But he thought of what Professor Snape knew – the identity of his father – and resigned himself to his fate with another sigh. If he was going to gain any information from the Potions master, he would have to continue the detentions with him and try harder to get Professor Snape to talk.

He reached the Fat Lady’s portrait after deciding he wouldn’t look for Professor McGonagall. The common room was warmer than the corridors, and much warmer than the dungeons. His eyes traveled around the room and found Kevin and Andy in a corner, bent over parchments of homework he’d finished days ago.

He approached the table from behind them, ever so cautiously, and said in a slightly high tone, “I’m back!”

Both boys jumped from their seats, startled. 

“For Merlin’s sake!” Andy spluttered out.

“Good grief, Nathan! Why did you do that for?” Kevin asked indignantly.

Nathan, smirking in his amusement, took a seat across from them. “You were just so absorbed in your work; I couldn’t resist,” he said simply, and his smile broadened.

“Not funny,” Andy mumbled, and went back to his homework.

Kevin was still looking angrily at Nathan, who smiled even more. But his smile faltered when he realized that Kevin was now studying him questioningly. “What?” Nathan asked.

“Nothing, just stop acting like that,” Kevin answered, his eyes already back on the parchment holding his Transfiguration essay.

Nathan frowned. “Like what?”

“Like S-” Kevin was saying but was cut off.

“Like a stupid child,” Andy said, glaring at Kevin.

Nathan observed their behavior attentively. “What were you going to say, Kevin?” he asked seriously.

“Exactly what Andy said; stop being a stupid brat!”

Nathan sighed. He thought he could lighten up a little in the company of his friends, but he was obviously mistaken. This mystery they were keeping from him, these strange looks… Nathan stood up abruptly and left the common room, annoyed. He would be better off alone.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus was lying on his bed, thinking about the events of these past days. _Damn boy! Damn portrait!_ When his son had asked about the green potion, he had felt uneasy; when the boy had said the vial was sticky, he’d been concerned and on his feet without even thinking; and when the reckless Gryffindor had said he’d inhaled it, his heart had skipped a beat. Nothing had happened, though, and he felt relieved.

And all these feelings annoyed him immensely.

But more annoying than what he had felt back in the classroom was how he was feeling right now. He wanted to check on Nathan to see if he was really fine. “Damn boy!” he roared. How could this Gryffindor change his life so? He refused to go to him, though. 

Severus left his bed. He wouldn’t sleep anytime soon, so he might just as well make rounds of the castle, taking points from unfortunate students. He changed back into his black robes and left his quarters.

He walked through the corridors, looking in every known mischief spot. He was on the top floor, turning back to descend to the dungeons, when he heard footsteps. He backed away into a shadowy corner and waited, smirking, for the unlucky student to pass by where he stood, but as soon as he saw who was coming, his smirk disappeared.

Nathan had just turned the corner, apparently alone. He seemed distracted, Severus noticed. The professor didn’t intercept him, but followed instead.

They walked through a few corridors, Nathan never realizing a dark figure was stalking him. The boy stopped in front of a window with a view to the lake that reflected the weak moonlight. Severus stood a few steps behind, observing his son.

He watched the boy sit by the window sill and frowned. _What is he doing here? And after curfew, no less?_ he thought. When Nathan didn’t show any indication that he was moving back to his dormitory anytime soon, Severus showed himself.

Startled, Nathan stood up awkwardly.

“It’s after curfew, Mr. Granger. What are you doing outside Gryffindor?” Severus asked.

“I was just going back, sir,” Nathan answered.

“Five points from Gryffindor.”

Nathan sighed, and lowered his head.

“I’ll accompany you to your common room, now,” Snape said after a few moments of silence. Nathan said nothing, just followed his professor.

A few corridors later, Nathan gathered his Gryffindor courage and asked, “Are you going to assign me more detentions, sir?”

Nathan’s voice was dull, Severus noticed. “You still have several detentions ahead, and they’ll be used as a punishment for this transgression too.” He watched the boy sigh, but then nod in acceptance. He kept watching.

Nathan seemed to realize his professor’s scrutiny, and he began to feel uncomfortable. He was also feeling sad at the moment. It seemed that his plans to become the best student, to make a difference at Hogwarts, were mere illusions. His friends were keeping secrets from him, he was always getting himself into trouble, and he couldn’t make Professor Snape recognize his efforts…

Severus was watching his son’s brooding figure. _What is going on here?_ he wondered. He’d never seen the boy like this. He started to worry.

“Why were you walking around the castle after curfew, Mr. Granger?” Professor Snape asked.

Nathan’s hesitation didn’t past unnoticed by Severus. “I didn’t have any homework and all my friends were busy with their own, so I decided to take a walk. I lost track of time, I’m sorry,” Nathan managed to reply.

The boy was a convincing liar, but he needed more than that to convince Severus, who narrowed his eyes. He said nothing, but his worries didn’t diminished. In front of the next torch that flared to light when they advanced through the corridor, Severus stopped Nathan and commanded, “Look at me,” and took his son’s face between his long hands.

Professor Snape looked into Nathan’s eyes for signs of effects of the green potion and found only the normal blackness he recognized from his own eyes. He was tempted to look past those eyes, to access Nathan’s thoughts, but refrained himself. It wasn’t past Nathan, being Hermione’s son, to know what he was doing if he Legilimized him, so he let go of his son’s face and started walking again. 

Nathan followed him in silence for a moment. He was mystified by Professor Snape’s actions. _Is he still concerned about the green potion?_ he thought. As much as it sounded impossible, that was exactly what it was – Professor Snape was concerned for him. That green substance must be very dangerous.

“Is the green potion that dangerous, sir?” Nathan asked; showing curiosity was part of his nature.

Severus spent only a glance at him. “Yes, it is,” he said simply, and silence fell upon them again as they walked.

Arriving at the Fat Lady’s portrait, Professor Snape stopped and waited for Nathan to give the password. The portrait leading to the Gryffindor common room swung open and Nathan was one step from it, when he half-turned and said, “Thank you, Professor Snape. You’re always taking care of us. I’m glad to have you as a teacher here,” and entered the room.

The Fat Lady was the only one that saw the dumbfounded Snape.

~o0oOo0o~

The following morning, Andy and Kevin were waiting for Nathan in the common room before breakfast. They saw him going down the stairs that came from the dormitories, and when he was in hearing range, Andy started teasing him for being late. Then he lowered his voice and stopped speaking altogether; Nathan had just passed by them without acknowledging their presence at all.

Nathan ignored their disbelieved stares and kept walking to the exit of the common room. He had had enough! If they wanted to keep things from him, fine. Just don’t expect him to be all friendly with them. He was better off alone!

He entered the Great Hall and took a seat on the opposite side of the table from where they usually sat. There was no one beside or across from him; he was alone. Nathan sighed before starting his breakfast.

Some minutes later he heard, rather than saw, the two boys approaching the table. They were looking at him; he could feel it. But he had resolved his feelings on the matter last night; if they were speaking about him behind his back and making pointed comments he didn’t understand to his face, then he didn’t need them.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus was listening to Minerva and observing the Great Hall while sipping his coffee when he saw Nathan come in. The boy was alone and determinedly walking to the Gryffindor table.

He continued to observe Nathan serving himself as if through obligation and not hunger, and he narrowed his eyes. He knew the boy couldn’t be affected by the potion; he had checked twice and found no visible effect. _What was it then?_ he thought.

Severus turned to answer something the Headmistress enquired of him for a moment, and when he turned his attention back to the students, he saw Kevin and Andy entering the Great Hall. Severus watched as they looked over to where Nathan was, and saw them turn to their usual place at the table, looking at Nathan and whispering to one another. He observed Nathan for his reaction to it, but there wasn’t any. His son was deliberately ignoring his friends. He rose an eyebrow at that. _But why?_ he mused. 

Severus fought to focus back on his breakfast. It wasn’t his place to see if the boy had friends or not. Checking on his health he felt was his obligation, but see to his social life was not! If he turned out to be a loner and decided to pass seven years alone, it wasn’t his problem. 

He ate a handful of scrambled eggs, using more force than necessary on his fork. Severus didn’t seem able to focus on anything else. When his son was in the same room as himself, the boy became the center of his interests. _Damn the boy!_ he berated in silence.

He managed to avoid looking at Nathan for the remainder of his meal. He stood from his chair and, in a rustle of black robes, left the Great Hall, but not before glaring at Andy and Kevin upon passing by the Gryffindor table.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan didn’t notice the Potions master; his attentions were directed at a pair of boys sitting a few chairs from him. He studied them without giving away his actions, their eyes never meeting.

He finished his breakfast and, quickly, walked towards the door, again ignoring Kevin’s call of his name.

During classes, Nathan sat as far as he could from the two. This behavior was starting to be noticed by some other students, he knew. But he was making his stand and he didn’t care if people noticed. He felt eyes studying him from his right and saw Devon Malfoy seemed to have more interest in him than in what Professor Flitwick was saying. Nathan glared impassively at him until the Slytherin turned his attention back to the lecture.

It was like that for the whole day. People were looking at him as if seeing him for the first time, and they were also looking at Kevin and Andy the same way. They had tried to speak with him during lunch, but he had ignored them again, refusing to listen to their excuses. Now they would learn not to keep things from him. If they wanted to be his friends, they would have to understand that!

At the end of the day’s classes, he didn’t want to go back to Gryffindor to do his homework, preferring the quietude of the library. He worked on the assigned essay for Charms, re-read the chapter on winter seasonal magical plants for Herbology, and had nothing else to do. He would normally spend this time with his friends but now he had to find something else to do before dinner and the upcoming detention.

He remembered then about the green potion. He was still intrigued by it. _What was in that vial?_ he thought again. Since he was in the library, he could use his time to search for clues as to what that substance could be. Nathan stood from the table at the back of the library and walked to the Potions section. 

There were an immense number of books on that subject. He mused on where to start. Deciding that green potion was definitely a poison, he started picking books from the shelves that had anything to do with it on their titles. 

Absorbed by the interesting reading, Nathan missed dinner, and just had time to check out some of the books he had selected and move quickly to the dungeons. He was five minutes late.

“You’re late, Mr. Granger. Five points from Gryffindor,” he heard as soon as he opened the door. Professor Snape hadn’t even bothered to look at him while taking the points.

“I’m sorry, sir, I was in the library and lost track of the time,” Nathan excused himself.

Professor Snape looked at him then, and studied Nathan for a brief moment before returning to whatever work he was doing. “You can finish what you started yesterday,” Professor Snape said. “And don’t open any vials this time,” he emphasized, looking at him again, “I don’t want to have to inform your mother of your death,” he added, visibly annoyed at the thought.

“You could always inform my father instead,” Nathan mumbled under his breath, walking to the storage room to continue the inventory.

Professor Snape seemed to have heard, though. “What did you say?” he asked.

Nathan stopped and turned to look at Professor Snape. “I said…” he hesitated, thinking this could be his opportunity to ask. 

The Potions master was now frowning at him, expecting an answer. 

“I said you could inform my father instead, sir.” Nathan was a Gryffindor, after all.

He held Professor Snape’s gaze. An uncomfortable silence fell upon them. 

“Another five points from Gryffindor, Mr. Granger.”

Nathan didn’t take his eyes of Snape’s, expecting his professor to say more. 

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes. “I think you have a detention to fulfill, Mr. Granger; what are you waiting for?” the Potions master said, visibly annoyed.

Nathan bit at his lower lip. _Should I ask him?_ he mused. He could see Professor Snape was on the edge of his patience. He took a deep breath but, thinking twice, decided not to ask. “Nothing, sir,” he said instead, and turned to the storage room. _It’s not the right moment_ , he thought.

Severus watched the boy entering the storage room with narrowed eyes. _What is he playing at?_ He tried to understand what had just happened there. _Does he know something?_ He knew the boy didn’t know anything about his father, right?

He looked back to the book he’d been reading, not really seeing the words on the page. His mind was full of questions with no answers, and he hated when he didn’t fully understand what was going on. Severus wanted to grab the boy by the arms and demand to know what was on his mind. He ground his teeth in frustration; this situation was becoming unbearable.

After much mulling on the matter, Severus stood from his desk and entered the storage room. Nathan was counting and recounting ingredients and taking notes on a parchment. The boy noticed his presence, but just looked at him, arching an eyebrow in expectance. _Must he do this?_ Severus thought. 

“I can see you haven’t killed yourself yet,” Severus said.

Nathan rolled his eyes, and went back to counting salamander tails.

“It would be extremely annoying to see your mother crying when I told her,” Snape said, observing Nathan hesitate on his task for only a moment. “I would prefer to tell your father, but then I would have to know who he is.”

Nathan had stopped his task altogether, but he didn’t take his eyes from the salamander tails.

“Can you tell me where to find him?” Snape asked then.

Nathan looked his way with a frown. “You know I can’t,” he answered.

“Can’t you? Are you sure of that?”

“I’m sure,” Nathan said. “But you can,” he affirmed, conviction in his shiny black eyes.

 _So that’s what this is all about_ , Severus silently concluded. “I can’t see you working, Mr. Granger,” he snapped, and saw the frustration written on Nathan’s face.

The boy resumed his work, but without the grace and caution he had been employing before, Severus noticed. The Potions master turned his back to him in a rustle of robes to leave the room, but heard, “Is it that bad?” He faced his son again. There was something in that tone; desperation, maybe frustration.

Nathan wasn’t finished. “He must have done something horrible. Is he in Azkaban? Is that why nobody tells me who he is? He’s a monster, isn’t he?”

Severus didn’t expect that. He hadn’t spent too much time considering possible reasons Hermione had kept his identity from the boy, but now… _She doesn’t want the likes of me near him_ , he concluded, and a stab of sorrow hit his heart. Could he condemn her choice? He thought not, and anger washed over him at what he was, and what he’d been. 

Severus clenched his hands into fists and said, “Finish your damn task, boy, so I can get rid of you!”

~o0oOo0o~

The next day, the frustration of the past evening was compounded by the frustration of that morning. Nathan didn’t get what he wanted from Professor Snape and, even worse than that, the Potions master now knew of his intentions. He wanted to talk to his friends, but he wasn’t the kind of person that gave up on a stand. He sighed and entered the Great Hall for breakfast alone.

He was playing with the food on his plate when something blocked the already scarce light due to the ugly weather. He looked up to find Kevin’s face. 

“Why are you ignoring us?” the boy asked.

“Why do you care? You were ignoring me first!” Nathan retorted.

“We were not!” protested Andy, by Kevin’s side.

“You’re keeping secrets from me. Do you think you’re masters of disguise? News flash, you’re not!” Nathan said, discounting all his frustration on the boys.

They watched Nathan. Kevin with an expression of surprise, but Andy seemed to be… sorry. 

Nathan pulled his things together and left them there, rendered silent by his accusations.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan was glad it was Friday already; he was now counting the days to be free of Professor Snape’s detentions. After that Wednesday evening, he was certain the Potions master wouldn’t tell him a thing about his father, and saw no further reason to want to spend time with the sour man.

His friends were acting even stranger after that morning of their argument. Nathan had caught them perusing his books the evening before, the books he’d been reading about poisons. Andy seemed frightened when he’d entered the dormitory. After that, Nathan had seen them coming out of Professor Lupin’s office earlier today; suspicious indeed.

He lay down on his bed after another evening of scrubbing cauldrons, and took another book from his nightstand. He was reading about another interesting green poison when he heard a shout and then a spell hit him.

“What is the meaning of this!” he said, jumping from his bed and advancing towards the caster – Kevin.

“Hold him, Andy!” he heard Kevin say.

“Stay away from me, Andy,” Nathan said, now holding his wand at the ready. “What did you do to me?”

“You don’t understand Nathan. You were under the Imperius Curse!” Andy exclaimed, his hands in front of him as if for protection.

“But don’t worry. Professor Lupin taught us the counter-curse. How do you feel?” Kevin asked, observing him with caution.

“Imperius Curse! Are you mad?” Nathan said, outraged.

That confused the pair of Gryffindors. “Listen Nathan, Professor Snape cursed you. We’ve noticed your change. But it’s all right now. You’re free,” Kevin said, as if he was talking to a five-year-old.

“Oh, come on! Was that what you were whispering about?” Nathan shook his head. “I’m not under any curse.”

“You’re not?” asked Andy.

“Not anymore,” said a smug Kevin.

“I’ve never been. What made you think such an absurd thing?” Nathan asked, eyeing both of them in turn.

“You’ve been acting kind of weird since you started those detentions with Snape,” Andy explained.

“Yeah, and it got worse! You even started to act like him,” Kevin completed.

“And then you started to ignore us, and we found these poison books. It was scary,” Andy said, a fearful expression on his face once more.

Nathan narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to find the name of a green potion that was unlabeled in Professor Snape’s storage room. I think it’s a poison; that’s why I’m reading these books. Did you think I wanted to poison someone?”

“Well, yeah! We thought Snape was commanding you to do that. Wasn’t he?” Kevin asked.

“Of course not! How many times do I have to tell you: Professor Snape is not an evil wizard!” Nathan was annoyed that he constantly had to repeat himself.

“If you weren’t cursed, then why have you been acting so weird?” asked Kevin, not yet convinced.

Nathan sighed. He would have to explain why he had been so focused on the detentions. “Listen guys, there’s something I have to tell you,” he said softly. “Professor Snape has information about something I’ve been trying to discover for a long time.”

“Information about what?” asked Andy, curious.

Nathan sighed again. This was his least favorite part of the tale. “I don’t know who my father is.”

“You never told us that,” Kevin said, sitting on the nearest bed.

“That’s because I don’t like to talk about it,” Nathan admitted.

“That’s sad,” said Andy, sitting next to Kevin.

“Professor Snape seems to know his identity,” Nathan went on, “but he won’t tell me.” Nathan paced in front of his friends. “Everybody seems to know. My mum knows, of course, and I think Uncle Harry knows, too; now I’m sure Professor Snape knows as well, but no one will tell me!” he finished in exasperation.

His friends didn’t know what to say. Nathan sat on his bed, frustrated.

Andy broke the silence, “Did you ask him?”

“Yes,” Nathan answered simply.

“And…” prompted Kevin.

“He got annoyed and has been treating me like a dunderhead ever since.” 

“I’m sorry, Nathan,” said Andy, reaching out a hand to comfort his friend.

~o0oOo0o~

Snape observed Nathan entering the Great Hall with his friends in tow. Apparently, they were back together as if nothing had happened. Nathan still seemed a little paler than normal, he noticed, but he would be fine now that he had friends again.

He had decided he wouldn’t have anything to do with Nathan after that night’s stark realization had hit home. Hermione had kept the boy from him because she didn’t want Nathan to know his father was a cold-blood murderer and ex-Death Eater; he didn’t blame her.

Severus didn’t feel like attending the Quidditch match, but knew he had to. Slytherin was playing against Gryffindor, and as Head of House he needed to show up and pretend to be interested.

Arriving at the Quidditch pitch, Severus found his usual place in the stands where the teachers always sat. He was early, as usual, just to avoid bumping into overexcited students. 

He observed the stands fill with green, silver, red and gold, when a small group caught his eyes. Lupin was approaching with a red headed man – Ronald Weasley. That was no surprise; Weasley always attended the Quidditch matches, annoying as it was. But this time they weren’t alone, they had a group of excited Gryffindors with them.

Severus watched his son talking animatedly with his friends, following Weasley and Lupin to where he sat.

“Good morning, Severus,” Lupin greeted.

Severus nodded.

“Hey, Snape, how’s your team this year without Frein and Maison? They were carrying the Slytherins on their backs last year. It’s a shame they graduated, don’t you think?” teased Ron.

“Gryffindor won’t win even if we substitute them with brooms alone,” Severus said, smirking at the now-angered Weasley.

“We’ll see,” said Ron. “Nathan? Aren’t you sitting with us?”

Nathan hesitated, looking at Professor Snape.

“Come over here!” Ron said, grabbing him by the robes and pulling Nathan down to sit by his side. “You too, boys; if you’re friends with Nathan, you’re my friends, too.”

Andy seemed eager to stay, since Ron was one of his favorites Quidditch players, but Kevin wasn’t that comfortable. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Oh, come on, Kevin,” Andy begged.

“All right,” Kevin agreed. Nathan smiled.

The match started and Gryffindor scored first, much to Ron’s excitement and Severus’ annoyance. “That’s only the beginning, Snape,” Ron teased. Severus didn’t bother answering, but observed Nathan from the corner of his eyes; he was smirking.

The game progressed and Slytherin took the lead on the scoreboard. “It seems you were putting the carriage ahead the Threstrals again, Weasley,” Severus mocked.

“Let’s see who catches the Snitch, Snape,” Ron retorted.

Severus flicked his eyes to where Nathan was seated again. The boy didn’t seem very interested on the game, but had his attention on Weasley instead. Nathan seemed fascinated with the red-headed man’s excitement over the match. His son was having a good time. _With Weasley, no less_ , he added mentally. 

On the pitch, both Seekers were flying after the Snitch. The small winged ball had been seen by the players, near to where they sat. Weasley’s scream when he saw it had made Snape cringe. 

He watched his son openly, now that everybody had their attention on the match. The boy had an expression of what Severus could only describe as disguised amusement, and he changed his own to a cold expressionless one. Nathan’s amusement wasn’t directed to the flying broomsticks, but to an excited Weasley, and that bothered him.

Gryffindor’s Seeker had caught the Golden Snitch. Weasley was cheering. Nathan smiled, watching his mother’s friend until he turned his attention to the other side and found Professor Snape staring at him. He smirked then. 

“Enjoy the game, sir?” Nathan asked, still smirking.

“Did you?” Professor Snape retorted.

“Gryffindor won,” Nathan answered.

“Did they?” Severus asked, arching his eyebrows.

Nathan looked at the scoreboard then. It showed two hundred and fifty to Gryffindor against one hundred and seventy to Slytherin. He looked back at his professor and rolled his eyes at the smirking man. Professor Snape had caught him.

“Try to actually watch the next game, Mr. Granger,” the Potions master said, leaving his seat and retreating to the castle.

Neither of them noticed the frowning Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione was resting by the hearth, watching the flickering flames. Her mind was replaying her last conversation with Harry. Yesterday afternoon, the Auror had looked for her at the university, asking for a favor.

“Hermione, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need your help,” Harry had said.

“Harry, I’m a Chemist, not a Potions Mistress. You should look for someone more qualified,” she had told him, pointedly.

“I’m not looking for Snape, Hermione. Forget about it!” Harry had said, narrowing his eyes at Hermione’s implied suggestion.

“Oh, grow up, Harry!” she had reprimanded. “Can’t you put this childish quarrel aside? He’s the best Potions Master I know; he could help you better than me.”

Harry had looked like as if she had offended him with the worst of offences.

“Harry,” she had said more calmly, “you can’t carry this grudge forever. He’d helped us. He’d saved us uncountable times, and what do you do? You duel him every year.”

“This is not about me and Snape, Hermione. Are you going to help me or not?” Harry had asked, extremely annoyed with the turn of the conversation.

Hermione had sighed. “Fine, but don’t expect any miracle from me. I haven’t worked with Potions this complex since our graduation,” she had said, “and I’ll need supplies and a laboratory, as well as books to consult,” she had added in an after thought.

Harry had grinned at her. “I knew you wouldn’t resist. I’ve spoken with Minerva and she agreed to concede you unlimited access to Hogwarts library and facilities.”

“Hogwarts?” she had exclaimed in surprise. “I thought I would be using the Ministry’s laboratories.”

“And you are. Hogwarts is just that. Besides,” Harry had added, before Hermione had had the time to protest, “you’ll find all the best books on the subject there.”

And that was how she found herself in this dilemma of conducting Potions research at Hogwarts. They’d agreed that she wouldn’t leave her work at the university; therefore, she would be spending Fridays and weekends at Hogwarts.

Her musings of what would become of her life now were interrupted by a strong tap at her door, startling her. The unexpected visitor knocked again, more insistently. She rose from the sofa, opened the door, and froze, wide-eyed.

It was Severus Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it! He finally went to Hermione and a cliffie was in order. :0) Now, I want to know what you thought of this chapter. Leave me a review!
> 
>  **Coming next…** The most anticipated confrontation.


	14. Confrontations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The most anticipated confrontation is about to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Fourteen! :0) The confrontation everybody has been waiting for. I won’t keep you any longer…
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** Snarkyroxy – thank you so much!

Hermione grasped the door knob tightly, frozen in front of the man who stood there scowling at her. “What have you done?” he growled dangerously.

At that moment, she knew he wasn’t there as Hogwarts’ Potions master; Severus Snape was by her door as her son’s father. _He knows_. A pain shot through her heart at the realization, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. She looked with apprehension at the narrowed black eyes pinning her where she stood.

Snape started to advance on her, the door closing behind him. He never took his eyes from hers, and she took a step back, but he continued forward. “What have you done?” he hissed, his nostrils flaring, showing his barely contained rage. She continued to back up in a vain attempt to escape.

She reached a wall and found herself cornered by the enraged man. He grabbed her by one arm, squeezing it in a vicious crush, and shook her as he demanded, “Why did you do this to me?”

She gasped, “You’re hurting me.”

He merely stared at her, breathing hard and still gripping her arm; she stared back. 

He released her with force, the jostle shaking her arm and body. Severus turned from her, demanding in a dangerously low voice, “Answer me.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing the sensitive spot where he’d grabbed her, trying to ease the burning pain. _What do I do now? How do I explain?_ she thought, staring at the back of the angry man. He suddenly turned back, startling her from her thoughts.

“I’ll ask you one more time, Granger. Why?” His eyes flashed in the light, under those pinched brows.

She took a shaky breath. “I didn’t do anything to you,” she answered, barely hesitating. She had to know for sure what he was talking about - how much he knew. Her stomach was starting to churn; the moment of truth had arrived.

“I don’t have patience for this,” he growled. “Tell me. NOW!”

She closed her eyes, and lowered her head. “Severus, I…” she started.

“How could you do this to me?” he demanded, not allowing her time to gather her thoughts. “How could you keep…” His face contorted in disgust. “A child of…”

“I couldn’t have done anything else,” she said quietly.

“Wrong. _You_ were the only one who could,” he countered, “because you… gave… me… no… CHOICE!”

“Could you have chosen then?” she asked, rising her head again to face those intense black eyes. “Would you even have considered keeping him?” She knew he wouldn’t.

“Of course not!” he said vehemently, proving her right. 

“Now you know why I didn’t tell you,” she said matter-of-factly.

His eyes never left hers. “Why?” he asked simply.

“Because I wanted him,” she answered, delivering truth in her words and in the intensity of her gaze. “I needed him,” she added in a pleading voice, wanting him to understand.

He shook his head in disbelief. “How could you want him? Why would you need…” his face contorted again, “a rape child?”

“Nathan is not a rape child!” she argued.

“Oh, please. I was there, remember? I was the one raping you!” he bellowed, spitting his dark sarcasm. 

She held his enraged gaze. “You didn’t, Severus.”

“I know what I’ve done,” he said, his expression filled with self-loathing.

“So you know you saved me that night.”

“Unfortunately, I did that, too,” he stated. 

She gasped in disbelief from what she was hearing. “What do you want to hear from me? That I hate you? That I hate my son? I don’t!” she said in exasperation. 

“You’ve ruined the life I’ve saved because _you_ decided to keep that child. Look at you,” he said in contempt. “You could have been anything you wanted, even Minister of Magic. But look at what you’ve become: a pathetic Muggle teacher who turned from the magical world in which you had so desperately longed to be accepted.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said shaking her head in denial. 

“All because of a child you had no right to keep without informing me,” he continued as if she hadn’t said anything, “I never wanted an heir; I never wanted anything to do with children! And now you come saying you wanted, even needed, this child. What for? To remind you of that night I decided to _save_ you!”

“Nathan is not a souvenir!” she shouted.

“Why did you keep him then, if not to remind you of what happened?”

“Because I needed him!” she yelled at him. “Can’t you understand? Nathan is the best thing that ever happened to me. He’s my son!”

“Not only yours!” he shouted back.

They locked eyes, both breathing hard after their respective outbursts. 

“What did you tell him?” she asked quietly, breaking the uncomfortable silence that fell between them. He didn’t answer. Anxiety started to take over the adrenaline of the moment. _Does Nathan know? Did he tell him? What did he say?_ Her mind was racing, hysteria building

“Severus, what did you tell Nathan?” she urged in a shrill voice. He ignored her again and turned away, walking toward the door. 

“Severus!” she called, following him.

He turned back, then, staring at her with those obsidian eyes; she stopped where she was, waiting for an answer that never came. His eyes held hers for a moment longer, and then, with the sharp _crack_ of Apparition, he was gone.

She raged in frustration. “How could he leave like that? What is he going to do now?” A tear rolled down her cheek. That was not how she’d expected that conversation to end. He was still furious with her, and she didn’t know what Nathan knew or what Severus’ intentions were regarding him. She suppressed a sob and breathed deeply to regain control.

 _Stubborn bastard!_ she cursed mentally. She was sure he hadn’t listened to a single word of what she’d said, just as she knew Nathan wouldn’t, either. Their tempers was so alike. She brushed another unwanted tear away with the back of her hand. She would have to speak to him again; she would have to go to Hogwarts.

But not now, not today. She knew he wasn’t ready to hear her yet. She sighed. She would have to wait if she wanted to succeed.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan left the Great Hall after dinner and entered the dungeons. His friends headed for the common room as soon as they had finished their meals, wanting to enjoy the celebration as long as it lasted; after all, winning a Quidditch match against Slytherin was always a reason to celebrate through the night.

He stopped in front of the Potions classroom door, sighed and knocked. After waiting for the usual ‘enter’ and not hearing it, Nathan tapped the door once more, this time with more force, and still there was no answer.

After the fourth series of unanswered knocks, ever so cautiously, Nathan opened the wooden door and peered inside. The classroom was darker than normal. He waited until his eyes became accustomed to the darkness so he could see more easily, but even then there wasn’t light enough to discern if he was alone in the room.

Nathan hesitated for a moment before opening the door further. He waited for a reprimand for intruding, but it never came. He entered the room and closed the door behind him, but now he couldn’t see anything. “Incendio,” he said, pointing his wand to where he knew a candle hung on the wall, and the flame illuminated that part of the classroom; it was empty.

Nathan frowned. _Where is Professor Snape?_ His professor had never been late for one of his detentions before, and he didn’t think it was something the Potions master would do; after all, he praised punctuality more than any other professor at Hogwarts.

He pointed his wand to another candle and repeated the incantation that brought it to light. He did this a couple of times more, and the room now resembled the atmosphere he remembered from previous detentions. _What do I do now?_ He looked around. He didn’t think it a good idea to leave; what if Professor Snape was testing him? No, he was staying, he decided.

Nathan walked toward the front of the classroom, where Professor Snape’s desk was. He could see some books, a quill holder with some quills inside, two ink bottles – black and red, some blank parchments and others written in the Potions master’s spidery handwriting. Nathan glanced around the room, spending some time staring the door at the right of Professor Snape’s desk, one he knew led to the man’s office, but there wasn’t a sign of life there, either. He looked back to the desk and moved closer.

Even upside down, he could read the title of the book on top of the pile: ‘ _Human Transfiguration: a Potions Approach_ ’. Nathan arched an eyebrow at that. Potions and Transfiguration – two subjects he liked. He was tempted to take the book. He looked around again and, seeing no one, reached for the tome. It was heavier than he thought it would be.

Nathan opened the book and started reading the first paragraph, which was enough for him to know it was a very advanced book. He narrowed his eyes, but it didn’t help him understand what was written there. He closed the book after reading and re-reading the first page a dozen times. He sighed and put the tome back on the pile, then he turned from the desk and took in the classroom once more; there was still no sign of Professor Snape.

He decided to take a seat by the workbench in front of the professor’s desk and wait a little longer. If Professor Snape didn’t show up in half an hour, he would look for Headmistress McGonagall and inform her of the strange absence.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus Apparated to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, wanting to hex something. _I shouldn’t have gone there_ , he admonished himself while stalking back to the school. The cold wind blowing his robes and hair was doing nothing to abate his boiling anger. He’d been, and still was, very angry with Hermione, but he was now even angrier with himself.

He had decided to look for her after spending the afternoon following the Quidditch match, deep in thought. He had been annoyed at the show of affection between his son and Weasley, and the look of admiration on Nathan’s face. He wanted that for himself; he wanted his son to look at _him_ that way. And he was now frowning in contempt of his desires even at the remembrance.

So, in the heat of his jealousy, he had looked for her, wanting answers. She’d messed with his life and with his feelings by keeping that child. He needed to know why she had done such a foolish thing, why she had kept the child. But looking for her had been a mistake made in a rare moment of weakness. 

Even the icy temperature couldn’t lessen the burning sensation in his chest. Her voice rang in his head, saying she had wanted the boy, she had needed the boy – his son. But how could she want or need a child who’s a result of such a barbaric act? He didn’t believe her, and all he could think was that she had lost her grip on reality.

He walked up the steps leading to the oak doors and entered the castle, going directly to the dungeons, lost in turbulent thoughts. He followed the dark corridors without looking around, and the few students still out and about shied away from his menacing figure.

Severus opened his classroom door with a bang. He went straight to his desk to gather some notes on the practical aspects of his ongoing research he would be using tomorrow morning. He didn’t notice the burning candles, nor the boy following his movement across the room.

“Professor Snape?” Nathan called.

Severus, who had his back to the boy, turned, startled at the sound of someone else in the room, and growled in annoyance upon realizing who this person was. “Who gave you permission to enter here?” he asked.

“We have a detention, sir. When I arrived you weren’t here. Since you didn’t say anything about canceling it, I decided to wait until you arrived,” Nathan explained.

He turned from the boy again leaning his hands on his desk, therefore not seeing the curious look that was being directed at him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Are you feeling all right, sir?” he heard his son ask, but Severus didn’t acknowledge him.

When he heard the stool rasping at the stone floor, he turned abruptly and found Nathan coming his way. “Stay where you are,” he said dangerously.

“I can go to the infirmary if you want,” Nathan suggested, stopping in his advance. “I can fetch Madam Pomfrey.”

“Do you want to help?” he spat. His son just looked at him with an unusual expression. “Then get out, NOW!”

The infuriating boy kept staring at him with that odd countenance. “I don’t think you should be alone if you’re not feeling well, sir. My mother says-”

“Don’t…” he cut Nathan off, barely containing himself from saying something he would have regretted later. He growled in frustration. “Leave,” he said between gritted teeth.

Nathan seemed as if he wanted to say something else, but then he decided against it. He shook his head and turning to leave as he’d been told, muttering things like ‘stubborn man’ and ‘shouldn’t be alone’ under his breath.

Severus wanted to tell the boy that he was the cause of his problems, he wanted to tell him his mother was the cause of his anger, but he didn’t. Hermione had asked him what he had told Nathan, and though he had told his son nothing, at that moment, he felt like telling the boy he was his father and that he didn’t want anything to do with him. 

He took the papers he’d come to retrieve and walked out the classroom. No more thinking about the infuriating boy, or his delusional mother. _For now_ , he added reluctantly.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan walked quickly out of the dungeons after leaving the rude professor to brood alone. He could drop dead in that cold classroom for all Nathan cared. He was tired of Professor Snape’s sharp tongue - tired of being told to leave, to be quiet - when all he wanted was to help.

He stalked his way to Gryffindor Tower, wondering about the infuriating wizard. It didn’t matter what his mother had told about the man, or if the professor knew who his father was; he just wouldn’t take this anymore. Professor Snape wouldn’t be the first or the last person that knew his father's identity. There would be others, and one would be willing to share the information so he wouldn’t have to struggle with the likes of Professor Snape. Screw the man!

“Watch where you’re going,” warned Lupin, after almost being knocked down by Nathan.

“I’m sorry, sir,” said Nathan.

“Where are you going like this?” Lupin asked. “Or better yet, where are you coming from?”

“I was in the dungeons with Professor Snape, but now I’m going back to the common room, sir,” he answered.

Lupin watched him closely in an odd way. “Try to slow down before you hurt someone, Nathan,” his Head of House suggested.

Nathan nodded and started to walk again, unaware of the Defense professor observing him, curiously narrowing his eyes.

~o0oOo0o~

Sunday at lunch, Hermione entered the Great Hall accompanied by Minerva. She had Flooed to Hogwarts after contacting the Headmistress that morning. She had used the pretense of discussing the new position Harry’s research put her in to discover how things were at the school.

She didn’t think anyone other than Minerva knew she was there, and her assumptions were confirmed by the look of hatred that Severus was directing to her from the Head Table, and those of surprise from the other teachers.

“Hey, Nathan, isn’t that your mother with the Headmistress?” asked Kevin, who was sitting facing the side entrance from where the witches had entered.

Nathan turned in his seat to see his mother with Professor McGonagall and frowned. “Yes, that’s her,” he said, still observing the witches. Hermione waved and Nathan arched a questioning eyebrow. She smiled, so he relaxed and smiled back. “She must be visiting with the Headmistress,” he added to his friends, but was still surprised with his mother’s unannounced presence.

Hermione sat by Minerva’s side, and the older witch separated her from Severus. “How are you, Severus?” Minerva greeted the visibly annoyed man at her other side. “You were missed at breakfast.”

“I can imagine,” he answered in his sarcasm, not offering much more and making it quite clear he wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

Hermione observed Severus trying to discern if this was a good or a bad sign. “Hello, Professor Snape,” she greeted, testing him.

He shot her a glare, nodded reluctantly, and went back to his meal. When Hermione had served herself, she heard him say, “What brings you to Hogwarts, Miss Granger? I don’t think your reckless son is in need of your presence; he doesn’t seem sick or injured to me.” She didn’t miss the tone in his voice or the smirk on his face. 

“No, he doesn’t. I’m here for other reasons,” she answered, and he dispensed her a sideways glance.

“Oh, since you brought the subject up, Severus. I want to call a meeting this afternoon to address the faculty concerning Hermione’s presence in the school,” McGonagall said. Then, turning to Hermione, she added, “if that’s all right with you, my dear.” 

“Sure, Minerva, that would be wise. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m here for the wrong reasons,” Hermione said, looking at Snape.

He nodded to the Headmistress and left his seat, exiting the Great Hall. Hermione sighed. “Will he ever change?” she asked aloud in a rhetorical way.

“I hope so,” Minerva answered.

After lunch, Hermione was greeted by most of the faculty. She was talking with Lupin when Nathan approached the Head Table. “Hello, Professor Lupin,” he greeted. “Mum. What are you doing here?”

“Come here, Nathan, I want to give you a hug,” she said, gesturing him to come to where she stood.

“Mum,” Nathan said in a low voice, “I don’t think you need to hug me in the Great Hall.” He was glaring at her.

She just smiled at him. “All right, I won’t hug you. Just come up here. I want to talk to you. Can we talk in the Great Hall?” she asked, teasing him.

Nathan smirked, “I guess talking is fine.” He climbed the platform where the Head Table stood and went to her.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Lupin said, smiling, “I’m sure you have a lot talk about.”

“I hope he’s not giving you a bad time, Remus,” Hermione said.

“No more than you ever did,” he answered with another smile. “I’ll see you at the meeting.” He nodded goodbye and left mother and son to talk.

“You didn’t have to say that to Professor Lupin,” Nathan admonished, “and what meeting was he talking about?”

“I’ll be working in a project here at Hogwarts. Harry asked me to research a potion and I said I would. Now, what’s new with you? Any new detentions I should know about?”

“No,” he answered quickly, “So, will you be spending time here from now on?” he asked.

“Only Fridays and weekends,” she answered, eyeing him suspiciously. “Do you have something to tell me, Nathan?”

He arched an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Mum, I haven’t done anything wrong since the Forest incident, and you know I’m being punished already,” he answered, annoyed.

“Yes, and how is detention with Professor Snape?” she asked, in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

“Okay for detentions, I guess,” he answered with a shrug.

“What kind of things do you do?”

“Lines, scrubbing cauldrons, preparing ingredients,” he said dismissively.

“He asked you to prepare ingredients?” she asked, surprised. Snape was famous for his detentions and Hermione knew what kind of nasty tasks he used to designate his unfortunate students, but she never heard of a first-year who had been asked to prepare ingredients.

“Yes. Frogs. He taught me how to remove the eyes and all,” Nathan added, his eyes shining.

“He taught you!?” Now she was dumbfounded. She knew Nathan was as talented in Potions as he was in Muggle Chemistry, but for Snape to acknowledge that… She didn’t know what to make of it, until something else crossed her mind, “What do you talk about during detention?”

“Nothing,” Nathan answered, too quickly, in Hermione’s opinion.

“So, what are your plans for today?” Hermione changed subject, deciding not to push Nathan on the matter. She could see there was more to these detentions than Nathan was willing to admit. She would have to talk with Severus.

~o0oOo0o~

The meeting with Hogwarts’ staff was proving enjoyable, Hermione thought. Everyone seemed happy to have her back at Hogwarts… everyone but the brooding wizard in black, of course, who was staring blankly at the fire burning in the hearth.

Minerva called the meeting to an end and all those present started to leave their seats, welcoming her and enjoying cheerful conversation, all but Snape. He had left his seat and was heading to the door of the Headmistress’ office, so Hermione called after him, “Professor Snape!”

He ignored her call and left, but she followed him. He was down in the corridors when she called again, “Professor Snape!”

He turned this time, still wearing that impassive expression. She approached him. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You left without answering my last question,” she said, “What did you tell him?” It was as much as she would risk in such a public place.

He pinched the bridge of his nose between those long fingers and sighed. “Isn’t it enough that you’ll be here every week to torment me? I want nothing to do with him. Now, leave me alone,” he said and turned from her to continue his way to the dungeons.

She followed him. “So, you didn’t tell him?” she stated with a questioning tone.

“What part of 'leave me alone' don’t you understand, Granger?” he said, visibly annoyed. 

She kept up with him. “If you don’t want me to follow you all the way to your dungeons, answer me!”

He ignored her and she followed him. Some corridors later, he stopped and glared at her. “Answer me!” she demanded again

“Why don’t you ask him? Afraid of what you’ll hear?” He was smirking now.

Oh, how she hated when they smirked like that - he and Nathan.

“I know something has been going on during those detentions,” she accused him with a pointed finger, “and I won’t give up until I find out. As you so wisely pointed out, I’ll be here every week and we’ll have all the time in the world to talk about it.”

She turned from him and stalked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They’ve met, they’ve talked (sort of), and now it begins… I hope you liked the chapter, and I’ll only know if you tell me, so leave a review! :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** The last detentions and more confrontations.


	15. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontations and unresolved tension lead to consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Fifteen! :0) Confrontations and unresolved tension lead to consequences. Are you curious? :0)
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

Severus had finally reached his personal lab after getting rid of Granger, or rather, getting rid of her physical presence, because she was still lurking in his mind. Severus had enjoyed seeing how much he had annoyed her; now _she_ knew how it felt to be in the dark. He smirked at her fruitless attempt of intimidation. Now he had the information she wanted. _How does that feel, Granger?_

That was when he remembered the boy, who would be spending another detention with him in a couple of hours. Severus sighed.

At least these damned detentions were ending, and he would only have to put up with the infuriating boy during classes. That was something to look forward to, certainly, but it did nothing to improve his mood. In fact, he didn’t think there was anything that could now, with the prospect of having Hermione Granger at Hogwarts every week.

He took the stirring rod that was resting on the workbench by the side of a simmering cauldron and stirred its contents furiously. Thanks to that afternoon’s meeting, this batch of tests wouldn’t be ready before he had to supervise his son’s detention. Severus cursed. 

Thinking while stirring, Severus cursed again and left the potion to rest for the next hour; he knew what he had to do about the detention. He prepared the next ingredients that should be added and went to his office to fetch some books.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan descended to the dungeons as he had done after most dinners this past month. He was not even a little bit enthusiastic about it. In fact, he was so disappointed with Professor Snape these days that he lost his interest in the man’s praise in class and was actually hopping the Potions master wouldn’t be there for the scheduled detention.

He was one minute early when he reached the classroom door. He waited until it was exactly seven o’clock and tapped at the door three times. There was no answer. He tapped again, louder, and yet no response. Nathan sighed. It seemed a repetition of what had happened the day before.

Nathan looked both sides of the corridor expecting to see the Potions master striding his way with that strong presence, but he didn’t.

Wondering what to do, he recalled what had happened when Professor Snape had found him inside the classroom alone and frowned. _I’m not going inside just to be told to go away_ , he thought, and his decision was made. He turned back the way he had come, walking away from his detention.

~o0oOo0o~

When it was a few minutes past seven, Severus entered the potions classroom from the side door that connected it to his office to find it empty – Nathan was late. He sat by his desk and read a potions journal while waiting for the boy to show up. Five minutes passed, and nothing; five minutes more, and yet no sign of the boy.

Severus’ annoyance at the boy’s lateness was being substituted by something else, and he gave up on the text he was reading. _Where is he?_ he thought, finally letting himself name the feeling starting to grow – concern. Severus was concerned that something had happened to his son.

He stood from the desk and walked to the classroom’s main door, resolved to look for Nathan and see why he hadn’t show up at the appointed time.

He walked through the corridors of the castle as if nothing was amiss. He tried the Great Hall first, but very few students were still there, and Nathan wasn’t one of them. Severus went up some floors and reached the library; feigning disinterest, he walked by the tables and aisles, finding only a Ravenclaw prankster from whom he took five points, but not a sign of his son or his Gryffindor friends.

Severus was reluctant to try their Tower, so he tried the same window at which he’d found Nathan after curfew last week… nothing. Severus sighed in annoyance, although he was feeling more than that. _Where is this boy?_ “If I find him just wandering around the castle, I swear he’ll regret the day he met me,” he murmured as he headed to Lupin’s office.

He knocked at the Defense master’s door, but got no answer. He cursed, knocked again, and realized that maybe Lupin wasn’t back from his weekend in London, where Tonks, his wife, lived. He contorted his lips in disgust for what he knew he would have to do next – enter Gryffindor common room.

He was really irritated now. He stormed the corridors, muttering under his breath. A thought of what could have happened to his son if he wasn’t found in the Tower crossed his mind, only adding to his irritation. He barked the teacher’s password to the Fat Lady and went through the passage its frame revealed, his black robes billowing after his dark figure. 

Those paying attention to the door stopped what they were doing at the Slytherin invasion. The sound in the common room diminished considerably, making those not yet paying attention to the Potions master standing there stop talking as well.

Severus didn’t say anything. He just scanned the room with narrowed eyes, and when he saw who he was looking for, sitting with his back to him by a table in the corner, his shoulders relaxed a little. _He’s here_ , he thought in concealed relief, but that was not enough to abate his irritation.

He was quickly at Nathan’s back, closing the distance with few graceful strides. Kevin, Andy, and some others that were playing Exploding Snap with Nathan had noticed Professor Snape’s presence, but not him. 

“What is it? It’s not my turn,” Nathan protested in confusion.

“Enjoying the free time, Mr. Granger?” came the cold voice from behind him, suddenly explaining friends’ odd countenances. He stiffened visibly. _Professor Snape?_

The thought that the Potions master had come to the Gryffindor common room after him was… disturbing. He cautiously turned to face his teacher, and wasn’t surprised when his eyes met an enraged Snape.

“Explain why you skipped detention, Mr. Granger,” Professor Snape said between gritted teeth.

The whole common room was frozen, watching the exchange.

“I didn’t skip detention, sir. I was there at seven, but you didn’t answer the door, and I-” Nathan started to explain, but was cut off mid-sentence.

“Ten points from Gryffindor! Now follow me!”

Nathan sighed and followed the man out of the room. He could hear the murmur of commiserations as he passed those gathered there. He wanted to turn and tell them to shut up and to mind their own business, but he held his tongue and just kept following Professor Snape.

Just outside in the hall, Professor Snape turned and faced him again. It seemed as if he wanted to say something, but then he just contorted his face in disgust and started to walk fast in the direction of the dungeons. Nathan could only follow.

 _I won’t back off on this. I’ve had enough of his temper!_ Nathan thought, creasing his forehead. He would let Professor Snape have his say, but he would make the man listen, too.

In a matter of minutes, they were by Professor Snape’s office. The man entered but didn’t stop there, as Nathan had expected. He followed the Potions master as he passed through a door that was hidden by some shelves. When Nathan saw the room beyond, his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in admiration, making him momentarily forget his earlier thoughts.

Severus was halfway to the workbench where the cauldron that needed attention simmered when he realized that Nathan had stopped at the threshold. He turned, fully prepared to snap at the boy, when he saw the look of awe in his son’s eyes; Nathan was admiring his lab.

The boy’s eyes traveled through the room. A great number of candles were burning and floating near the ceiling, giving the room a brighter look than the Potions master’s office. There were shelves covering the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with jars and boxes of potions ingredients and equipment. Nathan saw the three workbenches and the small desk that were the lab’s furniture, and his eyes stopped on his professor, who was looking at him with an expression Nathan didn’t think he’d seen on that face before. An expression that was there only for a short moment, as it was replaced by the cold one Nathan was very familiar with.

“Do you feel it’s safe to enter now?” Professor Snape asked.

Nathan just nodded, still surprised with the room. “Is this your lab, sir?”

“What does it look like to you?” Snape returned with a lifted eyebrow.

“It looks like a great lab, sir,” Nathan answered sincerely.

The open admiration in his son's sincere answer prevented Severus from delivering the sarcastic comment he’d prepared. “Yes, it is,” he said instead. Shaking himself from the surprise of the unexpectedly civilized chat, Severus resumed his work and reached the cauldron just in time to add the next ingredients.

Nathan stared at the man working. He could see his professor was very concentrated and counting stirs. _This must be a very important potion_ , Nathan mused. _What potion is it?_ He watched curiously.

Professor Snape adjusted the fire after stirring, observing the cauldron for a moment. He looked up and caught the boy studying him with… _admiration?_ He shook this thought from his head and remembered why the boy was there.

“I have the power to expel you from this school for skipping today’s detention, Mr. Granger. They don’t end until tomorrow, and you have no choice but to attend them,” he said, his anger coming back now.

“I wasn’t skipping detention, sir,” Nathan said.

“Don’t try my patience, boy!”

“I’m not! I was at the classroom by seven, but you weren’t there, sir!” Nathan retorted, with not much of his own patience left.

“Don’t use that tone with me, boy!” Professor Snape snarled, advancing on Nathan, who didn’t back a single step and even lifted his head in a defiant move. Snape was towering over the boy now, only inches from actually touching, his hands in fists hanging at the side of his slim body. 

“I wasn’t skipping detention, sir,” Nathan affirmed again, but this time he elaborated, “I couldn’t enter the classroom without you there, sir. You had said that yourself yesterday.”

“That was yesterday!”

Nathan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, Snape noticed. “I’m tired of it, sir. I’m tired of the psychological games, the unfounded accusations, the threats. I don’t know what you expect from me. I can’t understand half of your actions towards me! It’s driving me crazy!” Nathan had had enough.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” Snape finally said, after staring at his son’s face for some time, surprised by his strong words.

“Then leave me alone, and I’ll do the same,” Nathan stated. “I don’t care what you know about my father, or what you think of it at all. I don’t care if you’re a brilliant Potions master or a good teacher. I just can’t take it anymore.”

He could feel all the pain filling the voice of his son with that statement, and it reached some place inside his chest. He backed some distance away and turned from the boy, who lowered his head.

“What is my task for today, sir?” Nathan asked.

That question just added to the pain Severus was feeling. _Tell him_ , a voice demanded. _Tell him you were concerned when he didn’t show up. Tell him you were confused and didn’t know how to act. Apologize!_ the voice screamed in his head. He closed his eyes.

“I don’t have a task for you today,” Severus turned to face his son again, “and I won’t have one tomorrow. You’re excused from the detentions as for now.”

Nathan closed his eyes and sighed. “May I go, then?”

“Go.”

Nathan was at the door when he turned to face Professor Snape again. He hesitated before asking, “Are you brewing the Wolfsbane, sir?”

The surprise of the question made Severus answer. “It’s a variation of it.” He looked at Nathan in disbelief. 

Nathan nodded. “I could recognize most of the ingredients but not all of them,” he stated. “Good night, Professor Snape.”

He left.

Severus stared at the door for a while after his son had gone, lost in thought. He’d been berated by his eleven-year-old son and had said nothing back. The boy’s words had hurt him, even if he didn’t want to admit it. And they had done so because they were the truth. Albus was right; he should have used these detentions to get to know him better instead of…

Severus brought a hand to brush his hair back in a nervous movement. He looked around and started cleaning the workbench. He needed some occupation to distract him from his feelings and thoughts.

~o0oOo0o~

“Don’t come any closer, Granger!” Severus growled.

“Severus, you can’t run away forever!” Hermione was staring at the man’s back.

“I’m not running away!” he said with force, turning to look at her. “You are!”

She gasped. “I’m not running away, either!” Hermione walked towards him. “I wanted your son.” Her voice was tender to his ears.

Severus closed his eyes. “I can’t believe you,” he said in a low voice. A hand brushed his cheek, and he leaned into the touch.

“Yes you can, Severus. I wanted your son; I needed your son,” she stated in a very low voice.

He opened his eyes. “I can’t forgive myself.”

“I don’t blame you.” She continued to caress his face. “I don’t hate you, Severus. I’m thankful to you for saving me. You’re an honorable man.”

He shook his head in denial, turning from her touch. “I can’t. I’ve hurt you; I’ve destroyed your future. Nathan doesn’t deserve a father like me.”

Severus woke up from the agitated sleep.

“Another dream,” he muttered in annoyance. It was the third that night. He pushed the covers away and sat up on the mattress. “Not even in sleep do I have peace,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. 

Leaving his bed, he paced the room and stopped in front of the enchanted window where he could see the grounds illuminated by the moonlight. The weak fire burning in the hearth wasn’t enough to warm the room, and gooseflesh rose across his naked torso after the loss of the warmth from the bed covers.

But the increasing cold sensation of his bare feet touching the cold stone floor didn’t bother him like the dreams did. They were always the same; he was discussing Nathan with Hermione, and then she touched him, comforting him. He could even feel the soft skin of her hands, and he felt bad for being touched by her even in his dreams. _She’ll never touch me, and I won’t touch her either_. Wasn’t it enough, what he’d done to her? 

He shook his head; that was not why he couldn’t sleep today. His conflicting feelings were preventing his rest. On one hand, he wanted to know his son better, interact with him, accept him, but on the other hand… 

“I can’t. That’s not an option. He deserves better,” he mumbled, absentmindedly rubbing at his left forearm where the Dark Mark had left a pinkish scar.

He stayed there, watching the moon bathe the grounds with its silver light for what seemed hours, until his tired and cold body won and he went back to bed and to his restless sleep.

~o0oOo0o~

“Hermione?” Professor Brice called, entering her office.

“Oh, hi, William,” she answered, taking her attention from the essays for only time enough to acknowledge his presence.

He kept quiet, watching her fill the poor essay with red remarks. He came closer to her desk. “Busy?”

“I’m sorry, William,” she apologized, resting the red pen on the desk with reluctance, only to take it again and mark yet another error, and only then give up the plastic tube for good. When she looked up to her visitor, he was smiling.

“Sometimes I wonder why you like grading essays so much, and some other times…” he trailed off, but his impassive scrutiny was fixed on her. “Lunch, Hermione?”

She frowned. “It’s lunch time already?” she asked somewhat rhetorically, looking for a clock.

“It’s fifteen past midday,” he offered her.

She traveled the pile of essays with her thumb and rested back on the chair with a sigh.

“You seem a bit off this week. It’s not only the classes, is it?” William asked.

“No. There are the classes, but also the midterms to prepare, the research to do, journals to read-”

He interrupted her. “It’s something else. You’re distracted like this since Monday. Did something happen during the weekend?”

Hermione fidgeted in her chair. Were her worries showing? _Probably_. She frowned at the thought, and then fixed her eyes on William. “I’m fine. It’s just that I’ve realized how close we are to Christmas break and how much work I have to do before it,” she said, trying to sound convincing.

He nodded. “We have a lot to do at this time of the year,” he agreed and, with another smile, added, “and that includes eating.” She watched him bypass her desk and reach for the back of her chair, pulling it so she could stand up. “Let’s have some lunch.” 

She accepted his invitation, and they left for lunch.

~o0oOo0o~

“Thank you,” Hermione said, to the surprise of the house-elf helping with her luggage. She was arriving for her first weekend at Hogwarts since she’d left school so many years before.

The rooms the Headmistress had arranged for her were very comfortable. They were on the same floor as the library – fourth floor – which made it halfway between the dungeons, where she would be working, and Gryffindor Tower, where her son lived. 

She liked the two armchairs facing the hearth in the room. In the corner was a desk she would use for her study and result analysis late at night, but what really caught her eyes was the view that the wide window behind this desk revealed – the lake, the forest and, in the distance, the houses of Hogsmeade that she knew would have their windows lit with the yellow from firelight at night. She’d missed the simplicity of the wizarding world.

Walking to the adjacent room, she found a beautiful four-poster bed, covered with dark crimson curtains and silver and gold details, matching the coverlet. Besides the bed that dominated the room, it also had a wardrobe uncovering one of the walls. On another wall was a door that she presumed lead to the bathroom.

She opened her trunk and retrieved what she would be using that afternoon. She wanted to go straight to the dungeons and face Severus, but knew it wouldn’t be wise. She had to be patient; she had to work cautiously. She had to think of what was best for Nathan.

She left her new quarters and walked the few corridors that separated them from the library. She should start working on the research that was her reason to be there in the first place. She greeted Madam Pince and went straight to the Potions section.

Perusing the tomes and deciding which ones would be more useful at this stage of the research, Hermione didn’t notice the boy with a light smile who approached her.

“Looking for something in particular?”

She startled from the book she was reading to face her son. “Nathan! I didn’t think I would see you before dinner.” She hugged him.

“Mum, let go,” he said, scowling at her when she complied.

“Don’t look at me like that, young man. I’m you’re mother and I can hug you whenever I want,” she said, raising her chin and failing to hide the smile building at the corner of her lips. 

Nathan sighed. “I can see you’ll be embarrassing me every weekend,” he said, shaking his head.

She grinned then. “Don’t you just love that?”

He couldn’t hold the smile back anymore. “What are you looking for, exactly? I could help you, like I used to do at home.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be revising for your upcoming tests?”

“You know I’ve done that already. Where do we start?” Nathan asked. Hermione could only smile at his eagerness.

They shared the afternoon lost in Potions books and light conversation. Hermione was tempted to ask more about the detentions, but didn’t want to ruin the mood. She missed the quality time she had with Nathan before he came to Hogwarts, and she would have the whole day tomorrow to interrogate Severus.

The time went by so quickly that when she next checked, it was dinner time. Nathan was finishing the list of ingredients of the potion she had appointed him to copy from the book. 

“That’s it for today. Let’s have some dinner,” she stated.

“Are you going to brew something tomorrow?” Nathan asked when they were almost at Madam Pince’s desk, where Hermione would check out some of the books.

“No. Tomorrow I’ll see my working space and check that everything is ready. I’ll probably start something on Sunday.” 

Hermione checked out the books after promising Madam Pince she would not take long to bring them back, and they left for her quarters.

“If you’re working in Professor Snape’s lab, I think you’ll find everything you need,” Nathan commented. “He has the most amazing lab.”

Hermione looked at Nathan with renewed interest. “You know Professor Snape’s lab?”

“In my, er, last detention, he led me there. He was working on some variation of the Wolfsbane potion,” Nathan said, but didn’t elaborate.

“Did he ask you to help?” She couldn’t keep from asking.

“No,” was Nathan’s answer. 

She didn’t ask anything else, but her mind was racing with a million questions.

~o0oOo0o~

Remus Lupin was in his seat at the Head Table, observing the students eat and share conversations, when he saw Hermione Granger and her son, Nathan, entering the Great Hall. He wasn’t the only to notice Hermione’s presence; many students at the Gryffindor table, to where she accompanied her son, were muttering with each other, obviously about her.

He observed as she brushed Nathan’s hair back and the boy frowned at her, and that was yet another moment Remus had had that déjà vu sensation, the same he’d felt when he’d observed the boy after the Quidditch game. Hermione walked to the Head Table after that, and was received by Hagrid with enthusiasm. 

Lupin watched as she took the free seat beside the half-giant, and when she looked at him, she waved. He waved back with a friendly smile, which she returned, but soon it faded. He noticed that her look had caught the figure of Severus Snape. Remus looked at the Potions master and saw that he, too, was looking at her.

The meal went by and Lupin noticed more of those looks passing between Hermione and Snape. _What is going on here?_ he thought. From time to time, he could see Hermione looking at Nathan as if lost in thought. During one of those moments, Remus shifted his eyes to Snape and caught him doing the same thing, which was unbecoming. Snape looked his way then, caught him observing and frowned. Lupin tried to disguise the look of realization that crossed his features and averted his eyes to his plate. _It can’t be_.

~o0oOo0o~

Saturday, Hermione met McGonagall after breakfast and the Headmistress led her to the dungeons. Severus hadn’t been in the Great Hall this morning, but Hermione knew she would meet him soon.

Minerva tapped on the door of Snape’s office and entered after being invited by him. She led Hermione in just behind her. Snape didn’t acknowledge her, though. “Severus, Hermione is here to start her research for the Ministry. Do you have everything prepared?” Minerva asked him.

“Yes, Minerva. Follow me,” he said, rising from his desk and walking to some shelves, which moved to reveal a room beyond. Like her son had done before, she could only stare at everything in awe. 

“Very well, Severus. I’ll leave you to it.” Turning to Hermione, Minerva added, “and look for me later if there is something else you need, my dear.”

Hermione smiled at McGonagall. “Of course, Headmistress. Thank you.” 

When Minerva left, Hermione returned her attention to the room. “This lab is excellent,” she said to Severus.

“You can find cauldrons on those shelves,” he said, pointing behind her, “utensils you’ll find on those, in the boxes. Some of the most dangerous and expensive ingredients are here, and the rest are at the storeroom near the classroom, which I’m sure you know where to find. Any questions?” 

She wasn’t surprised by his down-to-business attitude. “Yes, I have questions,” she said.

He snorted. “Of course you have.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you want to listen to what I have to say? Why can’t we sit and talk about Nathan?”

He didn’t answer. 

“Severus, I know something happened between the two of you. Did he ask you something? Did he tell you something?”

“I see you have no questions about the lab. I’ll leave you to your work,” was all he said. 

He turned to leave, but Hermione halted him with her words. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, annoyed. “All I want is to protect my son! I don’t want to see him hurting more than I know he will be already!” She needed him to understand.

He turned to face her again. “But that is not my problem. _You_ brought this on yourself.” He smirked.

She gasped in disbelief. “I can’t believe you!” she protested. “Severus, if he suspects or knows that you’re his father,” she paused, not wanting to think of the possibilities. “I need to know so I can prepare him.”

“So, you _need_ to know. Interesting,” he said in a cold voice. “You know the feeling then.”

She sighed. “I can’t go back and change things,” she said with sorrow. 

He continued, “So you know that, too.”

“What’s done is done. We need to focus on Nathan here. If he knows something, you must tell me,” she said, looking him in the eyes to show her concern.

“You should have told me,” he said between gritted teeth. “I had the right to know!”

“You had, but you were also arrested and awaiting trial. You had too much going on in your life already, and I knew you wouldn’t take it lightly,” she said.

“Of course I wouldn’t have taken it lightly!” he roared.

“It doesn’t matter now!” she said back. “Nathan is eleven! There is nothing you can change about it, so let’s focus on what to do now and forget what happened then!”

“Forget!? Forget!” He invaded her personal space in one long step, and Hermione knew she had phrased herself poorly. “I don’t forget,” he said in a dangerous voice, and stared at her a while longer before spinning on his heel and leaving her there, alone. 

She sighed, closing her eyes. This man, her son’s father, had much in common with Nathan, but he was a man, not a boy; she had to remember that. She was not dealing with her boy, but with a very, very complicated man.

~o0oOo0o~

The next day, her last at Hogwarts for this first weekend, she was to work in the dungeons. Her son had asked to join her, and she’d let him. Hermione would try to get the answers she needed; she would learn what Nathan knew, she just had to.

Nathan had gone back to Gryffindor Tower to fetch his equipment for handling the ingredients they would prepare today, and she waited for him at the top of the stairs that connected the Entrance Hall and Hogwarts’ sub-levels. That was where Remus Lupin approached her.

“Hermione,” he greeted.

She smiled, “Remus.”

“I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

“I’m supposed to be heading to the dungeons to start working on my project,” she stated. “I’m only waiting for Nathan. He insisted on helping.”

“It concerns him,” Remus informed her, his tone serious and his eyes on hers to emphasize his words.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in a questioning way. “What about him?”

He silently observed her for a moment, which she thought was unusual behavior for him. “I don’t think you’ll want to discuss the matter in such a public place.”

She looked at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “Is he in trouble again?”

He sighed. “Hermione, I really don’t think it’s a matter to be discussed in the halls. We can talk more freely in my office,” he suggested.

“Mum,” she heard her son call, and looked his way. She hadn’t notice his approach. “I have everything with me, gloves and all, and it’s kind of heavy. Are you going to take long?”

She looked at Lupin, catching a glimpse of the surprise that Nathan’s quiet approach had caused in him, too. “We can talk some other time,” he offered with a smile. “Have a nice day,” he said, adding a small nod of goodbye to both of them and left for the stairs leading up.

“Where are we going to work?” Nathan asked drawing her attention back to him.

“Professor Snape’s lab.”

“Really?” She could feel the excitement in her son’s voice while they walked the dungeon halls, but the enthusiasm was gone with his following words. “Is he going to be there?”

She looked at him, trying not to show the significance the change in his tone had to her. “I don’t know. Why?”

Nathan shrugged, dismissively. “No reason, but I’d like if it will just be the two of us, like when we worked at home.”

She couldn’t decide if there was more to what she was hearing and observing of her son, but they soon reached their first destination: Professor Snape’s office. The door was ajar. _Conveniently still avoiding me_ , Hermione thought, rolling her eyes upon finding there was no one inside. She crossed the room and went directly to the shelves that she knew obscured the door to the lab, with Nathan just behind her. 

The room was how she’d left it the day before, but for some phials containing a yellowish liquid resting where only empty ones had been, giving away the fact that Severus had worked there after she’d gone.

“It’ll be easier to work here than home. Look at all the different knives!” Nathan said, examining the utensils.

“Stay away from the knives, please,” she cautioned him, “and don’t go touching everything,” she added with a glare, when she saw he had his hand halfway to the utensils on one of the shelves. He withdrew his hands to his back and wandlessly levitated what he had been about to touch. She shook her head, failing to hide the easy smile lingering on her lips. “Put that back, Nathan,” she chastised, “and look for some pestles.”

They worked together, talking first of the things they were doing and then commenting on the preparation of the ingredients. They were discussing the influence of the size of a chopped root on the final properties of a potion. 

“I’ve read in the text book, Mum,” Nathan was arguing his point, “that the pieces must be smaller than a square inch only if the medium is basic and not acid.”

“Nathan, you can’t rely only on books. I’m telling you, if you have pieces bigger than a square inch, even if in a medium acid like this one, you’ll have a change in consistency and, consequently, in the properties of the final potion,” she lectured.

“You’re just saying that because you like things chopped small. I’ll do as you say, but it’s unfounded,” he continued to disagree.

“What did Professor Snape say?” she asked, then.

Nathan stopped the rhythmic movement of his hands for a bit, but resumed his work saying, “I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure?” she said in an inquisitorial tone. “How’s that you’re not sure?”

“I…” Nathan stumbled, at a loss of words.

She stopped her own task to place her full attention on him, waiting for an explanation.

“I can’t remember what he said on that specific matter,” he managed.

She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you lying to me?” She knew her son too well to fall for that.

“I’m not lying,” he countered, still chopping the root, but he lacked the feverous tone she knew would be there if she was being unjust with her accusation.

“When will you give up trying to fool me, Nathan?”

He didn’t say anything.

“What aren’t you telling me?” she insisted.

Nathan sighed. “I wasn’t paying attention to the class,” he admitted.

“I thought you liked Professor Snape’s class.”

“I like Potions,” he corrected her, “but I never said I liked Professor Snape.”

She sighed, then. “What happened in those detentions that made you change your opinion like this?”

“I never changed my opinion,” he answered.

“Don’t try to fool me. You told me on your letters that he was your favorite teacher. What happened?”

“He found out I have no father,” he stated.

She took a shaky breath. _Finally_ , she thought. “And how does that change anything?” she pressed.

“Because people _always_ change around me when they find out.” He closed his eyes, stilling his hands. “I’m tired of it.”

She let go of the utensil she’d been working with and reached a hand to touch her son’s shoulder, but he jerked away from her. 

“Nathan-”

“I’m tired of making a clown of myself every time I’m asked about my father. Why are you doing this to me?” There was pain in his eyes when he looked at her. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“You know that I’ll tell you when I can, and that you’ll be the first to know.” She tried to reach a hand to him again, without success.

“You’re lying. So many know already and you didn’t tell me!” he protested, raising his voice.

“I’m not lying. Nobody knows-” she attempt to explain, but was cut off mid-sentence.

“Liar!” Nathan scolded. “You’re a liar! Even Professor Snape knows!”

Her eyes widened. Nathan was aware that Severus knew.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed, and she realized that her reaction had betrayed her. “Professor Snape, of all people, knows who my father is!”

“What did he tell you?” Her voice was weak.

She saw him thinking on how to answer and only realized she’d been holding her breath when she exhaled after hearing his next words. “Nothing! Nobody says anything!” His voice was stained with disappointment. She wanted to reach out for him, but she knew he wouldn’t let her hold him right now. “How come he knows and I don’t?”

“Try to understand, Nathan. We’ve discussed this so many times. I can’t tell you, yet. You-”

“Why not?” he cut her explanation, “I can handle the truth, Mum. I won’t be upset if he’s in Azkaban, or something. I just want to know his name,” he pleaded.

She closed her eyes. “I can’t tell you yet.” 

She heard his growl of frustration. “It’s not fair!” he heatedly protested. “I’m the one who has to listen to Snape’s dry remarks; I’m the one who has to undergo my friends’ pity. And you could end all of this, but you… won’t… tell me!” he raged and left the room at a run. She knew he was crying. 

Hermione made to follow him, but was stopped by Severus Snape’s hand on her arm, and his quiet voice saying, “Let him go.”

“Release me,” she commanded, shaking her arm, trying to break free from his grip. “I need to go after him.” His fingers tightened around her upper arm. She glared at him. “It’s your entire fault! You destroyed everything I’ve built. I prepared him for your nastiness, unfairness, stubbornness, and even so you found a way to make him hate you. I hope you’re satisfied,” she ranted.

“Finished?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. 

She narrowed her eyes. “Bastard!” She was preparing another round of accusations, but he spoke before they left her mouth. 

“Your secret is still safe, but not for long if I let you go after him.” His eyes were on hers. “And I don’t think that’s what you want, for the little I’ve heard of your conversation.”

She sighed and felt his hand slowly withdraw from her arm. “Why didn’t you tell me he had realized you knew something?” she sighed. “I would have been able to dissuade him, and things wouldn’t have come to this. He was fascinated by you to the point that I had to ask him to talk about something else. What did you do to him in those detentions? He… he hates you enough to neglect what you say in class. That’s quite an achievement. You should be proud,” she said sarcastically.

“And you say that as if it was a bad thing,” he countered.

She looked at him in disbelief. “Do you want him to hate you? You’re saying that you really want your son to hate you? You can’t be serious.”

“I thought you were happy with his fatherless status,” he said. “Who would want a murderer bastard as a father? He’s better off without me.”

“What are you talking about? Nathan worshiped you until you screwed everything up with whatever you said and did during those detentions. He would be delighted to know you’re his father.”

He mock chuckled. “Don’t make me laugh, Granger. You filled his head with fantastic stories of how honorable and good I was. Of course he would change his mind after finding out the truth of who I really am; he is not stupid.”

“The truth of who you really are, Severus? Do you still believe you’re beyond redemption after all you’ve done for the wizarding world?” She shook her head. “You’ll never understand why I decided to keep him; you’re as stubborn as your son. Now, if you excuse me, I’m going after Nathan,” she said and left his office.

~o0oOo0o~

Kevin sat near one of the shelves in the library, where he was working on his History essay with Andy’s help. He struggled with dates and names until he gave up trying to find the right Goblin who had leaded that specific revolt. He closed his book and looked up to Andy. “I wish Nathan were here to help us.”

“Me, too. What do you think he’s doing in the dungeons with his mother? Preparing ingredients?” Andy asked.

“Maybe. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind if we went there to see?”

“I don’t know,” Andy answered, hesitating. “What if Snape is there, too?”

“Good point,” Kevin agreed and opened his book again with a sigh. “Do you think Snape really knows who Nathan’s father is?”

“I hope so. It’s just too sad not knowing the name of your own father. I wish we could help him find out.”

“If Snape knows, maybe we could investigate him and try to find out something,” Kevin suggested.

“I don’t know, but it’s worth trying. Nathan deserves to know who his father is, even if all we can find out is a name,” Andy said.

“We should work on a plan, then. When he comes back, we can tell him our ideas.”

“Sure, these Goblin revolts are too boring anyway,” Andy agreed, and they started working on plans to find out the identity of Nathan’s father.

What they hadn’t noticed was the blond Slytherin with a smug smile, standing behind the shelf by where they sat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A side note, actually. I’ve drawn a picture of Nathan as I see him. You can see it at http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/26307657/ or by looking for ferporcel at DeviantART. :0)
> 
> Now, what did you think of the chapter? I want to know, so leave a review. :0) 
> 
> **Coming next…** Nathan is on a quest for the truth, and so is Severus.


	16. Search for Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan wants the truth at all cost, Devon knows more than he should, and Lupin wants confirmation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Sixteen! :0) Nathan wants the truth at all cost, Devon knows more than he should, and Lupin wants confirmation. What a mess of information!
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you so much!

Hermione walked through Hogwarts’ halls with mixed emotions. She wanted to find Nathan and comfort him, but she also wanted to go back to the Potions master’s office and hit him hard for causing all of this. If he had told her when she’d asked what had been going on between Nathan and him, she would have been prepared for Nathan’s outburst and she wouldn’t have to be searching the castle for her son right now.

Nathan’s words of accusation came back to her mind. Liar. Yes, she was a liar, but not in the way Nathan thought. Nobody knew of her most guarded secret... until Severus found out. How did this happen, anyway? She’d been so focused on finding out what her son knew that she hadn’t stop to think about Severus’ side of this story. 

But now she was too worried about her son - and too angry with Severus - to think straight. Hermione had been walking for half an hour by the time she turned a corner and finally found him. 

There he was, shoulders leaning on the wall framing a big window that revealed the thin snow showering the grounds and the lake. Her heart hurt seeing the lost look in his unseeing eyes… eyes that were spilling silent tears. The landscape beyond the window wasn’t the only thing Nathan wasn’t aware of. She didn’t think he’d even noticed her presence in the quiet hall yet.

“Nathan,” she called in a low voice, not wanting to startle him.

He didn’t look her way, but raised a hand to his face, trying to wipe away the evidence of his crying.

She went to him. “I’ve been looking for you,” she said.

No answer.

She sighed. “It breaks my heart to see you like this. I don’t want you hurting; I never did.” His eyes were still focused somewhere outside, unseeing; she wasn’t getting through to him.

“Every time we argue about your father it only hurts more. I know it’s frustrating for you, but I can’t tell you the truth just yet, and you have to trust me that I will, as soon as I can. 

“I could lie to you; say things about your father that weren’t true, just to make you happy. Is that what you want? Lies? Because I can’t tell you what you want to hear, and being mad at me won’t help, either. I don’t like this situation any better than you.”

She saw a new tear run down her son’s cheek.

“Don’t cry anymore,” she said then, her voice stained with sorrow for their predicament. She reached for his face to wipe the tear away, biting her lower lip to try to stave off her own tears. He closed his eyes in an effort to hide his emotions.

She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, stirring his hair with her spoken words of regret. He didn’t hug her back, though. She closed her eyes and hugged him tighter, trying to express with the gesture what she couldn’t say with words. Hermione just held Nathan, resting her cheek on his head. 

She felt him trying to move away after a while and released him from the hug. He hadn’t said a word yet, and he wasn’t facing her, either. 

“Nathan,” she called softly, trying to make him look at her and talk. He did look at her then, but no words were forthcoming. His red-rimmed eyes were focused on hers now, and although his expression was frighteningly blank, those black eyes were overflowing with anger and frustration. 

“Nathan, don’t shut me up. It hurts when you don’t talk to me. You’re all I have, you’re my life,” she pleaded. 

“Tell me his name,” he said, quietly and steadily.

She bit her lower lip again, keeping Severus name from slipping from the tip of her tongue. A tear rolled from one of her eyes. “Not yet.”

“Then don’t even bother talking to me until you decide otherwise.” And with that, he left her by the window and moved quickly away. More tears stained her face, and she closed her eyes and let them fall freely. 

She regretted the position she was taking, but she couldn’t tell Nathan that Severus Snape was his father without knowing what his intentions were towards their son. If Severus didn’t care for him, she didn’t think Nathan could handle a father who was so close but yet so far. She wouldn’t allow this to happen; her heart ached, but she couldn’t. It would be too disappointing.

She tried to calm down, observing the snowy grounds. The tears subsided, but not her worries. Hermione had no idea what was on Severus’ mind, even less what was in his heart. How did he feel about Nathan, anyway? She wracked her brain, recalling every word he’d told her since he’d looked for her, last week… they were annoyingly ambiguous. 

At their first meeting he’d been looking for answers. He’d seemed disgusted with the thought of her keeping his child, and it was clear that, for him, Nathan was the result of a barbarian act. To him, Nathan could be not more than a reminder of that; the materialization of his sins. She sighed at the conclusions she was getting. _Oh, how wrong he is_.

And then, there was what she’d heard today. He was trying to keep Nathan away from him because he thought himself unworthy; he thought Nathan was better off without him. Was he worried about what kind of father he would be? Does he care, then? _He does_ , she assured herself. She knew it in her heart that Severus was a good man, and that in his messed up, distorted way he wanted the best for Nathan… didn’t he?

She sighed. She wasn’t getting anywhere. She needed time to think before acting. Hermione collected her thoughts and walked back to the dungeons. She would clean up the lab and would leave Hogwarts. A week would be enough time to come up with a solution for this, so she hoped.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan sat, resting his back on a pillow cushioning the head of his bed, holding an open book on his lap. He was trying to take his mind off the argument he had with his mother. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this hard on her, but he was really tired and too angry to accept her excuses yet again. No, he wouldn’t take any more excuses; he had the right to know. It was _his_ father’s name they were keeping from him.

And nonetheless, he felt his heart was clenched so tight that his chest was hurting. He knew his mother was suffering because of his actions; he’d done this before, back on one of his birthdays. The image of her crying was threatening to bring new tears to his own eyes. He quickly blinked them away and returned his attention to the words written in the book. He read a paragraph, and his mind wandered once again. He sighed and closed the book, annoyed. 

“Oh, there you are!” said Kevin, entering the dormitory with Andy close behind. “We’ve been looking for you. Guess what? I have a plan to find out what Snape knows about your father,” he revealed, excited, waiting anxiously for Nathan’s reaction.

Nathan just arched an eyebrow in askance.

“It’s a brilliant idea, Nathan,” Andy joined Kevin.

“All we have to do is confront him as your mother or one of the other teachers,” Kevin told him, “with a little help of a Polyjuice Potion.”

Nathan sighed and shook his head at that. “Thanks for trying to help me, guys, but this idea is insane.”

“Why?” Andy asked, confused with his friend’s response.

“Do you know how hard it is to brew the Polyjuice Potion? My mother was in her second year when she did it, we’re just first-years. Besides, I don’t think Professor Snape would fall for that,” Nathan explained.

“Well, we thought you could brew the Polyjuice Potion; you’re good in Potions,” Kevin argued, the disappointment showing in his voice.

“I’m sorry, Kevin. I know you’re just trying to help me, and I appreciate it. But I don’t think fooling Professor Snape is that easy.”

“Then we can’t use my idea, either,” Andy said, sighing heavily and sitting on the foot of Nathan’s bed.

“Your idea wouldn’t work even if Professor Snape was a first-year, Andy,” Kevin said, seeming annoyed with his planning partner.

“I’m sure Peeves could take the information from him. It was a good plan!” Andy retorted, hotly.

Nathan smiled at his two best friends. They were really trying to help him with this. “Thank you, Andy, but I think Kevin is right. Not even Voldemort could take information out of Professor Snape. He was a spy, remember? We could interrogate him, but we wouldn’t get any information out of him, not even with Peeves torturing him,” he pointed out, although the image of Peeves torturing Professor Snape was amusing. “Even though, it would be funny to watch,” he admitted, smirking. Both of his friends laughed at the image.

When they’d sobered from the laughter of the various images they’d conjured of Peeves torturing Snape, Kevin sat on the bed facing Nathan’s. “What do we do, then? All of our ideas involved fooling or forcing Snape to talk, but with his spy background…” he trailed off.

“Why don’t we spy on him?” Andy suggested.

“Do you think Snape would go around talking about it? We would only find out useless information about his boring life,” Kevin refuted.

But something crossed Nathan’s mind with that idea. “Wait a minute,” he said, “that’s a great idea. We can investigate Professor Snape’s life and find out something, some information we could use in exchange for my father’s name.” The other boys could almost see the possibilities running through Nathan’s brain, shining in his eyes.

Kevin was surprised with Nathan’s idea. “Bribery?” he asked in disbelief.

“I would call it the Slytherin way of achieving information. He’s used the fact that I don’t know my father against me first, so let’s say he brought it on himself,” Nathan pointed out. “We just have to find out something he really doesn’t want people to know,” Nathan added, reclining against the head of his bed again, contemplating the possibilities with a smirk.

“Nathan, you scare me sometimes,” said Andy, looking at Nathan as if seeing him for the first time.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Kevin asked, eyeing Nathan with doubt.

“It’s perfect!” Nathan assured them. “All we have to do is investigate Professor Snape’s past. We can start in the library, and then we can ask the other teachers. He’s been teaching here for ages; they must know something we can use.” He paused, observing his friends’ reactions. “If you still want to help me, that is,” he added.

“Of course we’ll help you, it’s just…” Kevin wasn’t totally convinced of Nathan’s idea.

Nathan kept talking about the possible ways to get information on Professor Snape, and he finally ended up convincing his two best friends. They outlined plans for the rest of the afternoon, and by dinner time, Nathan’s mood had improved enough to make him actually want to eat something.

Arriving at the Great Hall, Nathan instinctively searched the Head Table for his mother, but she wasn’t there. _She must have gone home already_ , he thought with a sigh.

Nathan wasn’t the only one to notice Hermione’s absence at dinner. Remus Lupin approached the Headmistress and asked, “Isn’t Hermione coming for dinner?”

“I’m afraid not. She had to go back to London for some work, apparently,” Minerva answered.

Remus nodded and took his usual seat. Hermione had left Hogwarts without looking for him as he’d asked. He mused on the reasons why she might have avoided the meeting. He knew the paternity of Nathan was a delicate issue for her; he was almost certain that she’d never revealed the man’s identity to anyone, not even Harry or Ron. 

He looked along the table and found the Potions master eating his meal quietly. Should he confront Severus? Would he admit the truth? He’d never said he had a son, or revealed he had had a relationship with Hermione. But Severus wasn’t one to go spreading his personal life to the seven seas. Remus didn’t know what to do. In fact, he wasn’t one hundred percent sure of his suspicions. What if he was wrong and Nathan wasn’t Severus’ son?

He searched the Gryffindor table, then. Nathan was eating and talking with his inseparable friends. He observed the boy for a while. Lupin was almost sure… almost. The similarities between Nathan and Severus were many; mostly behavioral, but there were also physical ones. Black hair, black eyes, lean body; they were characteristics of Nathan’s father, for none were Hermione’s, and Severus fitted well for all of them. 

Nathan lifted an eyebrow at that moment. _There_ , Lupin thought. _It’s like watching the eleven year-old Snape all over again_. He sighed and turned his attention back to his meal. It would be better if he talked with Hermione first, to be sure. She would be at Hogwarts next weekend, but then he remembered the lunar calendar. Remus wouldn’t be at Hogwarts next weekend; it was the full moon. He looked at Severus again, contemplating, and decided he needed to be sure before confronting the sour man.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan was surrounded by Gryffindors when a group of Slytherins, lead by one very blond first-year, approached close behind him in the halls. It would have been an everyday occurrence if Devon Malfoy hadn’t chosen that moment to open his mouth.

“Professor Flitwick must be wondering where Granger learned that little trick he so expertly showed us today in class. What do you say, Granger?” Malfoy asked, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Nathan ignored him, so no other Gryffindor gave Malfoy any attention, either.

“That would be something my father would have taught me. Did your father teach you that spell, Granger?” Malfoy continued.

Nathan kept walking, pretending not to listen what the Slytherin was saying, until…

“Oh no, wait a minute, I forgot that you don’t _have_ a father.”

Nathan’s eyes widened and he stopped in his tracks. The group of Gryffindors walking with him stopped, too. He turned to face the smug Slytherin and glared at him.

“I have a father,” Nathan said tightly.

Devon smirked. “Of course you have; you just don’t know who he is.”

Nathan didn’t have an answer for that, besides, “Shut up, Malfoy.”

“Why, I wasn’t supposed to tell? I didn’t think it was a secret. Your friends were discussing it freely in the library the other day,” the Slytherin said with a mocking, innocent expression.

Nathan was shocked. He looked at the two friends who Malfoy was certainly referring to with disbelief. Those listening to the interaction were looking at Nathan speculatively, and he could feel their eyes on him.

“Well, it was a very good wand trick, anyway. See you in Defense, if not earlier,” Devon said and moved ahead along the corridor, followed by the group of Slytherins, who also looked at Nathan, but with malice the Gryffindors lacked. 

“I can’t believe you!” Nathan hissed at his supposed two best friends before striding away.

~o0oOo0o~

Friday evening, Severus was finishing some potions for the Hospital Wing when the hidden door connecting his laboratory and office opened for Hermione Granger. For a moment, she seemed unaware of his presence in the room.

“I wasn’t expecting you today, Miss Granger,” he said, startling her as intended.

“Good evening, Severus,” she answered, but said nothing else.

He observed as Hermione approached one of the ingredient cabinets with a parchment in hand. She browsed its content and made notations on the parchment. He went back to stirring the bubbling cauldron in front of him, but glanced from time to time at the woman sharing the room with him.

Time passed in silence, and she seemed to be rechecking whatever list she had in her hands now. He was pretending to read a journal while waiting for the draught he’d brewed to cool enough to be bottled.

“You were right about Nathan.” She broke the silence, and Severus was the one startled this time. “I shouldn’t have gone after him that day.”

He looked up from the journal to observe her openly. She seemed deep in thought, and there was something… different about her. He’d seen her on a few occasions in the last months, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing her this… lost. Her words and a memory of their last argument crossed his mind. _Did she reveal the truth to the boy?_

“He’s not talking with me. He avoided me all afternoon. He did this once before, on his eighth birthday, but this time it’s different.” She toyed with the parchment in her hands, her eyes fixed on it. 

This only confirmed his suspicions. But Nathan hadn’t been any different around him this week. He saw her take a deep breath. 

“I want to tell him, Severus,” she stated, and raised her eyes to look at him. “I want to tell him you’re his father and end this once and for all. I don’t know if I can meet him for breakfast tomorrow and have him ignore me again.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” he said. He was relieved she hadn’t told the boy. Yet, he added mentally.

“He won’t give up until he gets what he wants,” she argued, urgency in her voice. “I wanted to wait until you came to terms with it, but I don’t think I can. Nathan is my life, Severus; he’s my everything. When he looks at me the way he did today, it hurts too much.”

“You won’t tell him,” he said. He was starting to feel uneasy in the face of her obvious despair.

“I’m telling him,” she affirmed.

“He’ll hate you,” Severus stated blatantly, and silence fell in the room. He could see in her expression the possibilities running through her head. “Go ahead and tell him that I’m his father, but he’ll never forgive you. You’ll make his life a living hell; his friends will treat him with indifference. He’ll never talk to you again.”

“You’re wrong,” she retorted, holding her chin high. “He’ll be happy to know you’re his father; he admires you. You’ll get to know each other better, and you’ll learn to love each other.”

He snorted. “You’ve lost your mind, Granger. I don’t like him; I don’t want to get to know him better. He annoys me,” he said, knowing in his heart it wasn’t true. “If you tell him, I’ll deny it. If you insist, you won’t like what I’ll do,” he threatened, walking closer to her until he loomed over her intimidatingly.

“You’re bluffing!” she defied. “I know you’re just saying that. I’ve seen you with Draco. I know who you really are, Severus. You wouldn’t hurt your own son.”

“If you’re so sure, then try me,” he said, arching an eyebrow.

Their eyes locked and they fought a silent battle; one which was won by him when she turned away abruptly and growled in frustration. 

He was relieved.

~o0oOo0o~

After Malfoy’s declaration last week, Nathan had been questioned by all Gryffindor first-years, and some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, too. Every student that looked for him with indiscrete questions or - even worse - pity, added to his indignation over his mother’s position, giving him strength to withstand his tantrum. He would not talk with her until she had a name to tell him.

She had looked for him when she arrived for the weekend on Friday, and he bravely ignored her, turning his back to her and walking away. He was glad she hadn’t shown up for the evening meal that day, or for breakfast the day after. He was still angry with her, but resisting her pleading tone and sad face was very hard. 

Nathan had forgiven his best friends, though. After that first encounter in the halls with Malfoy, he’d shut the boys out for a while, but then had forgiven them, for they proved they didn’t know the blond boy had been listening to their conversation. Nathan believed them. He knew now that it had been a Slytherin move of Malfoy, and Nathan was only left to lament the consequences of that move.

But this week things had been different. Less and less students looked at him weirdly, and their plans to get information on Professor Snape’s past were being applied. His friends and he had been spending most of their free time on the task. That was why he was currently standing in front of Professor Lupin’s office. He took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts, and knocked.

“Nathan,” Lupin acknowledged, answering the door.

“Hello, Professor. Do you have a minute?” Nathan asked.

“Yes, I do,” the professor answered, frowning slightly. He stepped back and motioned for Nathan to follow him inside, closing the door. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, not really,” Nathan hurried to answer. “I just want to talk about Professor Snape, sir.”

Lupin stiffened a bit. Talking with Nathan about Snape was not something he looked forward to, especially now that he suspected their blood connection. “Take a seat, Nathan.”

Nathan took the indicated chair. 

“Tea?” Lupin offered, and Nathan nodded. Lupin took the tea set and placed it on the table. He warmed the water with a charm and added the tea bags. “Sugar, milk?”

“Sugar.” Nathan took the cup. “Thank you, sir.”

Lupin, with a cup for himself in hand, took the seat across from his student. “Professor Snape,” he stated with a sigh, looking tired and older than his age.

Nathan took a sip of his tea. “I know you’ve explained before, sir, but I wanted to understand why Professor Snape acts the way he does.”

“Why Severus acts the way he does,” Lupin murmured to himself, sighing again. “Nathan, Professor Snape has been through a lot in his life,” he began. “A war can affect people in many ways. I don’t know what your mother told you about what happened back then, but the war was particularly hard on Professor Snape.

“I presume you know he was a spy,” Lupin said, and Nathan nodded. “Very well. To be convincing as a Death Eater, he had to play a flawless role, and he did just that. His interpretation was so good, and he played the role for so many years, that it became part of who he is. 

“I know that it’s not easy to agree with the way Professor Snape acts most of the time, but I want you to know that it has nothing to do with you or anyone else specifically. Do you understand what I mean?” Lupin asked.

“Yes, sir,” Nathan answered, and they went quiet, contemplating that for a while. Then, breaking the silence again, he asked, “Do you think he regrets anything?” 

Lupin put his empty cup on the table. “He may regret a great many things. We all do, Nathan. You see, in a war there are decisions that must be made regardless of our feelings about them. Most of the time, you have to put your personal opinions aside to favor the common good.”

Nathan rubbed his cup. This was not what he’d expected to hear, and he went quiet again. He didn’t know what to ask next.

Professor Lupin watched Nathan, and interpreting his thoughtfulness, he affirmed, “Don’t try to understand him too soon, Nathan. Professor Snape is a very complicated man. You’ll understand his actions, eventually.”

“I hope so,” Nathan murmured, nodding. He finished his tea, talking about less complex subjects, and left Professor Lupin’s office knowing a little more about the mysterious Professor Snape, but nothing of use to his plans.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan was walking down to the dungeons. He had left his friends playing and studying in the common room, after deciding he couldn’t ignore his mother any longer.

That afternoon, she had looked for him in the library, asking him to talk to her again. Images of his mother’s sorrowful eyes and the sound of her pleading voice had invaded his mind constantly during the day. 

He was almost at his destination, now. He was very close to Professor Snape’s office - the only way to get to the man’s private laboratory. He knew that his mother would be working there right now. 

He knocked on the office’s door; no answer. He knocked again, waiting. When there was no answer after his third knock, he opened the door slowly. As he presumed, there was no one in the room, but he could see light coming from the laboratory’s hidden door, left ajar. Nathan took a deep breath and entered. It was time to talk with his mother again.

However, when he was halfway from the door, he heard Hermione’s voice speaking conversationally; she wasn’t alone. He stood there for a moment, contemplating whether he should go on or come back later, when he heard the voice of the second person with her in the room – Professor Lupin. Nathan frowned in confusion; he didn’t know his mother and Professor Lupin were close friends, but there wasn’t another reason for the presence of the Defense instructor in a potions lab.

Nathan moved towards the lab cautiously. He could hear what the professor was saying now.

“… but I didn’t want to look for him without speaking with you first, Hermione.”

“I don’t understand, Remus. You’re not making any sense.”

“Hermione, watching Nathan is like going back in time, back to when I was a student here. The resemblance between the two of them is very strong,” Lupin insisted.

There was silence in the room ahead, and Nathan frowned in confusion. _What does Professor Lupin mean?_

His musings were interrupted by the sound of his mother’s voice coming from the lab again. “Remus, I…”

“Don’t worry, Hermione. I know this is a delicate issue for you. If I’m not mistaken, Nathan doesn’t know,” he heard Lupin say.

“No, he doesn’t,” his mother confirmed.

“What about-” Lupin said, but Nathan didn’t hear the rest of the question.

“Spying on your mother?” came a voice from behind, startling him.

The conversation within the lab stopped and the door suddenly opened fully. Nathan saw his mother, wide-eyed, looking from him to Professor Snape. “Nathan,” she murmured, looking stricken.

“I was-” Nathan tried to explain, but was interrupted by Professor Snape.

“You were inside _my_ office, listening behind the door to a conversation you were most definitely not invited to.” The voice of the Potions master had an accusing tone.

“It’s all right, Severus. I don’t think Nathan was eavesdropping on anyone’s conversation, right?” Professor Lupin came to his rescue… sort of.

“I… I was…” Nathan locked eyes with his mother, who still looked worried.

“Nathan,” she said, quietly.

“Yes, I was,” he admitted. “You were talking about me, and I know exactly what you were talking about.” Nathan held his mother’s gaze. “Do the other teachers know, too? How many people will you tell before I’m finally allowed to know?”

Nathan was so focused on Hermione that he missed Snape’s sharp shift of attention, which was now fixed on Lupin.

“Nathan, that’s not-” Hermione tried to explain, but Nathan didn’t want to listen.

“I came here to talk to you because I thought you were telling the truth the other day. You almost got me again with your sorrowful face and whiney voice, Mum. But don’t expect me to forgive you after this!” Nathan said, ignoring the two professors. He grimaced at his mother and hurriedly left the room.

Only then, Hermione noticed there was another pair of black eyes fixed on her, impassible and accusing.

“Severus, Remus noticed-” she began, only to be interrupted once again.

“I’m sure he did,” Severus said, and held her eyes a moment longer before addressing Lupin. “What will you do with the information, Lupin?”

“Severus, I won’t tell anyone else, if that’s what you want to know. I know you’ve never said anything before, and that you’re very reserved about your personal life,” Lupin assured the other man.

Severus nodded. “He must not know.”

“I wasn’t planning to tell him, but I want to suggest that you do,” Remus said, looking from Severus to Hermione.

“Your opinion is neither requested nor welcome, Lupin. This is between Granger and I, and I’d appreciate if you would take care of your own business, otherwise-”

“Enough, Severus!” Hermione surprised him with her strong reprimand. “Remus is a friend. I’m sure he will do what’s best for Nathan. He was just trying to help.”

“Very well, you know my position,” he told Hermione, and then turned to Lupin. “I’ll keep an eye on you, Lupin.” And with that, he was gone in a flare of black robes.

“Don’t worry,” Lupin assured Hermione, who sighed.

~o0oOo0o~

“I don’t care what your father does or doesn’t do, Malfoy!” Nathan stated.

They were in the middle of the Entrance Hall, leaving from dinner. Devon Malfoy was surrounded by Slytherin first-years, and Nathan had his friends with him, too.

“I was just talking with my friends, here.” Malfoy smirked and added, “I’m sorry if you’re jealous because I have a father who likes me.”

Nathan closed his hands into fists, trying to contain his rage. He scowled at Devon. 

“Are you still looking for him, or did you give up? Have you looked in Azkaban?” Devon asked, making the Slytherins laugh. 

But that was only until Nathan reply, “If my father is in Azkaban, Malfoy, yours should be keeping him company.” 

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. “My father is not a criminal!” he said indignantly. 

“Well, that’s not what I’ve heard. Maybe you don’t know your father all that well,” Nathan said, and didn’t wait for a reply. He turned from the Slytherin and went up the marble stairs with his friends. 

“You’ll eat your words, Granger!” Devon threatened.

None of them noticed the presence of Professor Snape in the shadowy corner behind the House points hourglasses. _Then Devon knows of Nathan’s situation_ , he mused, frowning. That wouldn’t help things in any way.

He sighed, making his way to his office.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan was in the library; it had been part of his routine since planning to investigate Snape with his friends the other day. They had been spending most of their free time on the task, and Nathan was running out of sources of information. He and his friends had searched every book about recent wizarding history, old school yearbooks, genealogy, and there was nothing of use against Professor Snape. 

Their attempts to persuade the other teachers to talk about the Potions master were proving to be just as unsuccessful. It seemed that nobody knew enough of the reserved man, and those who did weren’t willing to share.

Malfoy had pointed out Nathan’s lack of father at every opportunity. Nathan was ignoring the Slytherin, but he was also getting tired of it. This only frustrated him more! He closed another useless book and sighed heavily.

“Let’s take a break,” he suggested, and the boys across the table leaned back on their chairs. “This is getting nowhere,” he admitted.

“I agree,” said Kevin.

“What do we do, then?” asked Andy. “Are we giving up?”

Nathan sighed. 

“We don’t give up, Andy. We’re Gryffindors. We just need another plan,” Kevin said to the boy next to him, and turning to the one across from him, added, “Isn’t it right, Nathan?”

Nathan didn’t answer right away. He was trying to figure out where their plan had failed. “Yes, that’s right. We need another plan. What are we missing?” he asked rhetorically. “Who haven’t we talked with?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Andy. “I’m out of ideas to make the teachers talk. Unless we shamelessly ask: What sordid secret you know about Snape? I don’t know how we’ll make them talk.”

“Okay, then. You take the Headmistress and I’ll take Professor Flitwick,” said Kevin.

Before Andy could come out with his surely indignant retort to the choice of assigned teachers, Nathan blurted out, “The Headmaster!”

“Who?” Kevin asked.

“Of course, how could I’ve forgotten him? He must know all about Professor Snape, and he must be willing to talk, since he was killed by him,” Nathan babbled, lost in the possibilities. He focused his eyes on his friends again; they were staring at him. Nathan smirked. “We need access to the Headmistress’ office. I need to have a chat with a portrait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of the chapter? I want to know, so leave me a review telling me. :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** Nathan has a new source of information, and winter’s break is near—it’s Christmas time.


	17. Unanswered Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan has a new source of information, and Hermione and Severus have a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READER FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy – thank you very much!

Nathan sat in one of the armchairs in the Headmistress’ office. As part of his plan, he’d looked for Professor McGonagall, pretending to be interested in applying for one of the positions as Filch’s assistant. 

“So, Mr. Granger, do you understand what it means to be a Hogwarts assistant? It’s no easy job,” the Headmistress pointed out after a boring explanation of the assistant duties.

“I do, Headmistress,” he answered dutifully, wanting to know why it was taking so long for someone to call her out. _What is going on with Kevin and Andy?_ he thought in apprehension.

And it was as if they had heard his thoughts. 

“Headmistress,” a portrait of a chubby wizard called from behind her. “I think you should go to the dungeons.”

“Is it Peeves?” she asked, resigned.

“I’m afraid not. It’s a bunch of those fireworks; those colorful snakes,” the portrait told her, “and they’re multiplying fast.”

McGonagall sighed. “Mr. Granger, I’m sorry but this will have to wait,” she said, dismissing him.

“Oh, I could wait here until you come back, Professor,” he said, keeping his part of the plan on track. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

She looked at him for a while, deliberating his offer, and then nodded. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Nathan watched her go, and as soon as she’d closed the door, he looked around at the many portraits hanging in the room and said urgently, “I need to speak with Albus Dumbledore.”

“Oh, what a brat!” spat a wizard with a large mustache and blue hat. “You’re behind the fireworks, aren’t you?”

Nathan ignored that accusation and the others that followed, and searched the wall for the wizard he’d seen only in chocolate frog cards and old wizarding pictures.

“I’m over here,” said a calm voice to his right. “Mr. Granger, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered and crossed the room to stand in front of Albus Dumbledore’s frame. “I wish to ask you about a wizard you used to know,” he said.

“What you have to ask must be very important. A fireworks attack is not a light diversion,” Dumbledore said, amused.

Nathan fidgeted under the scrutiny of the portrait’s twinkling eyes. “I… You knew Professor Snape very well, didn’t you, sir?” he asked nervously.

“Yes, I did,” Albus answered slowly.

“He… well, I know that…” _Why was it so hard just to say it?_ “He, you know…”

“Yes, child, he killed me,” Dumbledore finished for him. “But only because he had no choice,” he added, watching Nathan intently. “There are situations in a war when some sacrifices must be made.”

“Did you forgive him, sir?”

“There was nothing to forgive.” Dumbledore stroked his painted beard. “But you knew that already, else you wouldn’t be here. What is it that you don’t know?”

Nathan realized with those words that it would be much harder to get what he needed from this old wizard in the portrait than he thought. He had hoped that the late Headmaster would have regrets concerning Snape, and would be willing to share some sordid secrets from the Potions master’s past. He still thought it was worth the try, and so he optioned for the direct approach, since he didn’t have much time before the Headmistress would return. 

“He knows something of great importance to me, but he won’t tell me. I thought that maybe you could help me,” Nathan explained. “I need information I could use in exchange for what he knows. Something he wouldn’t want the whole school to know.”

That was it! He was appealing to this wizard’s desire for revenge. 

Dumbledore observed Nathan with even more interest now. “You’re much more like your father than I imagined at first. What you ask of me is for help in blackmailing Professor Snape. Not an everyday occurrence.”

Nathan’s eyes glittered after the first part of the portrait’s speech. “How am I more like my father, sir?”

Dumbledore wouldn’t be baited that easily, but could see the opportunity that this conversation roused. “You’re more willing to have what you want, not concerning yourself with how you’ll get it. Your father had it, too, and it was one of the traits I admired in him…” He paused. “…but only when fighting for the right things.”

Nathan was hypnotized by the wizard in the canvas. Dumbledore had said more about his father than any other one person ever had. “Were you friends?”

“I like to think we still are,” Dumbledore answered with a light smile on his painted mouth. “But I thought you wanted to talk about Professor Snape,” he said, arching an eyebrow.

Nathan had completely lost his interest in the Potions master. He was now much more interested in what the great Albus Dumbledore had to say about his father. “No, it’s fine. I understand that you don’t want to talk about him, sir,” he dismissed the old subject. “We can keep talking about my father, if you prefer…” _And you could start by telling his name_ , he wanted to add.

Dumbledore was amused. “I don’t think that would be possible, but you might want to know that blackmailing Professor Snape won’t get him to cooperate with you, young one. He might tell you who your father is if you gain his respect and friendship.”

Nathan frowned. Had he mentioned what information his Potions professor was withholding? He didn’t think so. How had the portrait known, then? “I never told you what information I wanted from Professor Snape.”

“No, you didn’t.”

Nathan was even more confused. “How did you know, then?”

“I know a great many things. I know that Basilisks are color blind, that there are one thousand two hundred and seventy four flavors of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, and that the Headmistress hides lemon drops in the first drawer of her desk. Why don’t you take some while she’s not here?” Dumbledore said, winking mischievously and nodding his head in the general direction of the desk.

Nathan’s frown deepened. He glanced at the desk, shook his head to organize his thoughts, and looked back at the portrait.

Before Nathan could say anything, Dumbledore did. “Too late,” he said, and noises could be heard coming from the other side of the door, gaining Nathan’s attention. “You’ll find the answer to your questions when you stop looking for them. All you need is within you,” Dumbledore added, his eyes twinkling.

Nathan blinked to the portrait in thought. _What does he mean?_ He didn’t have time to think or ask anything else, though. He went quickly back to the armchair he had been sitting in before the Headmistress left and feigned boredom as if he’d stayed in that position the whole time. 

McGonagall walked to her desk, took her seat and sighed. “Where were we, Mr. Granger?” she asked, somewhat rhetorically. “Ah, yes. The assistant duties. Well-”

“Headmistress, while you were out, I had some time to think of everything you’ve said, and I believe I’m not ready for the responsibility of being a Hogwarts assistant right now. I appreciate your time, ma’am. I know you’re very busy.” Her confusion showed in her face. “Thank you, ma’am,” Nathan added, rising from his seat and quickly leaving the office.

When the door closed behind him, his confusion was once again clearly visible on his face. Stop looking for the answers? All he needs is within him? What was that crazy portrait talking about? _And_ that _was the famous Albus Dumbledore?_ he thought. _Not very helpful_.

He descended the spiral staircase, and as he walked back to Gryffindor tower, some of the other things he had learnt that afternoon came back into his mind. _I’m like my father_. Nathan smiled. He didn’t know his father yet, but now he knew more about him than ever before. _He fights for what he wants, and so do I_. 

Immersed in thoughts of the knowledge he’d gained from Dumbledore, he entered the common room to meet his rule-breaking friends, who demanded a full recount of his conversation with the portrait.

“So what you’re saying is that he didn’t say anything, either,” Kevin concluded after Nathan was finished.

“I’m not sure. He might have said something useful, in a cryptic way. That was the most confusing conversation I have ever had, and that’s saying something,” Nathan confessed.

“Well, you’ll add it to the files, right?” Andy asked.

“Yes, of course,” Nathan assured him. “In fact, I’ll do that right now. I don’t want to forget anything that portrait said, absurd as it might have sounded.”

Nathan left the common room and went up the stairs to the dormitories. He settled on his bed, taking two rolls of parchment from his bookbag. The first was the one Andy had mentioned: _the Snape files_. It was where Nathan kept track of the information he thought relevant about the professor. The second one, which the others didn’t know he kept, was the one he called _the Dad files_.

The second parchment had precious little information. In the first column was a list of names entitled _People who know_ , to which Nathan added Albus Dumbledore. Besides that, it had only one other reference under a column _Clues: Professor Lupin mentioned the days he was a student_.

Nathan had started taking notes about what he knew of his father after the conversation he had overheard between his mother and the Defense teacher. Now, he had more items to add. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore had told him he had been friends with his father. _Still is_ , Nathan added mentally. He also knew that his father was a determined man, who didn’t give up on the things he wanted. _Just like me_ , he thought, smiling.

He kept making notes of bits of his conversation with Dumbledore, and after re-reading both parchments, he realized he still didn’t have what he needed to find out who his father was, or to get the information from Professor Snape. He sighed and lay down on his bed. Observing the red and gold pattern of his bed’s curtain, Nathan thought about the last thing the portrait had said, trying to figure out what he meant by _all you need is within you_.

~o0oOo0o~

Remus was deep in thought after what he had seen and heard that day last weekend in the dungeons. He had gone there looking for a confirmation of his suspicions about Nathan’s heritage, and he had got said confirmation and much more. He had watched Nathan’s rage, Severus’ stubbornness and Hermione’s helplessness, and he had listened to her explanations and lamentations.

Hermione had told him she had kept Nathan a secret from Severus, and Severus a secret from everyone else, including Nathan. At that point, Remus had started to understand Severus’ reactions to the boy, and his actions that day in the dungeons, but after having some time to think, Remus was now left with more questions than answers. 

From time to time, Nathan’s secret father was a subject of discussion among the Potters, the Weasleys and other members of the dormant Order of the Phoenix. In the beginning, when they had first discovered Hermione’s pregnancy, there was commotion from some and indignation from others. When she had stated that the identity of the father was of no one’s business but her own, the reactions were even stronger. Ron had demanded she tell them the name of the wizard who had done that to her; Minerva had asked Hermione to confide in them, but the calmest, yet most worrisome reaction, was that of Harry. The savior of the wizarding world had a cold look in his eyes, a look that betrayed the power behind his young, innocent features, and it was something Remus had seen only a few times and hoped to never see again. 

Hermione had been calmer than usual and had told them that nothing would change her mind. More protests followed that statement, but died when Harry decided to speak. He’d approached Hermione and said, “If you’re so keen to protect him from us, you better protect him well,” and then left the room. With time, everything had gone back to normal. Nathan was born, Harry was called to be his godfather, and the identity of the father remained hidden.

Well, that wasn’t true. Remus knew Severus was Nathan’s father now, and more unanswered questions floated in his mind. Why did Hermione keep Nathan from Severus? Why did nobody know of their relationship back then, or until now? And now that Severus knew, why didn’t they reveal the truth to Nathan? Keeping it from Harry and Ron was understandable – they had never liked Snape – but from Nathan… It could only be due to Severus’ stubbornness, because Remus was certain that Hermione would want to reveal her – _their_ – secret to the boy. He was sure that she knew of the admiration Nathan held for Severus – or had held in the past, since Remus didn’t know what the boy thought of the Potions master anymore. 

What he did know was the boy’s efforts to win Severus’ praise had been tireless. Remus could remember the day he’d found Nathan upset in the dungeons for being dismissed without acknowledgement of his good work in the classroom. But his observations of Nathan since then had shown that things might have changed. They spent a month of detentions together after all. What had happened in those detentions? He didn’t know… 

Remus recalled their last talk about the stubborn man, though. Nathan had looked for him in his office, asking for an explanation of Severus’ behavior. Why would Nathan still want to understand Severus, anyway? Did the boy suspect something? No, he didn’t. Not after what he had said to Hermione that day. It could only be the boy’s desire to win the praise of the most difficult teacher, just like his mother when she had been a student. He smiled with the memory, but the smile soon became a sad, longing expression; he would never see the image of himself or Tonks in any child. 

Remus entered the Great Hall by a side door, greeted those already there, and took his seat for lunch. He ran his eyes over the four tables ahead, taking more time to observe his Gryffindors. There was nothing unusual, and it remained like that until most of the students had finished their meals.

It was then a movement of Slytherin first-years, lead by Devon Malfoy, could be seen approaching the main doors at the same time as a group of Gryffindor first-years, Nathan among them. From where he was at the Head Table, Remus couldn’t hear what Devon was saying, but he heard the laugher of his companions. 

Another comment by Devon was followed by more laughter, and Remus saw Nathan turn to face the Slytherin. He was on his feet in a beat, and he saw Severus doing the same. On his way to the growing circle of students that now surrounded the group, he heard Nathan’s furious demand, “Take it back, Malfoy! Take it back!”

By the time he actually reached the center of the confusion, Severus was already holding a furious Nathan, who had jumped to physically attack Devon. The Slytherin held a hand up to shield his face, eyes wild with surprise, fear, and disbelief. It was clear that Devon had never been attacked the Muggle way.

“Mr. Granger, this is unacceptable!” hissed Severus. “Ten points from Gryffindor and a detention!”

“What about him? Won’t he be punished, too?” Nathan asked, pointing at Devon. “He started it! He insulted my Mum!”

“How can I be blamed? I can’t help if she doesn’t know who your father is,” Devon retorted, coming out of his shock to defend himself.

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Nathan snapped. 

“Enough!” hissed Severus. The man was still holding his son by the arm.

Remus observed the scene, suddenly lost for words. _How can Severus watch this and not react, not tell Nathan he is his father?_ he thought.

“Make yourself useful, Lupin!” barked Severus. 

“Ten points from Slytherin and a detention, Devon,” he stated then, looking pointedly at Severus, who narrowed his eyes. “Now, now. The show is over, go to your classes,” Remus added to the crowd around them, and they started to move.

“Mr. Granger, in spite of what Mr. Malfoy has said or done, this Muggle behavior will not be tolerated,” Severus said, looking directly into Nathan’s shiny eyes. The boy didn’t flinch or show any sign of acknowledgement. 

Remus wanted to smirk at the boy’s attitude. Even threatened physically – Severus still held the boy’s arm – and verbally by the dreaded Potions master, he didn’t show any sign of fear or resignation.

“Do you understand me?” Severus asked.

Again, without averting his determined gaze from Severus’, Nathan answered, “Yes, sir. Can I go, now?”

Severus released Nathan’s arm. “Not yet,” he answered. “Mr. Malfoy, the next time I see you engaging in a fight, I won’t need a Gryffindor to take points from Slytherin. Is that clear?”

“But Uncle Sev-” Devon started to argue, only to be interrupted by his godfather.

“It’s _Professor_ Snape, Mr. Malfoy,” Severus hissed, “and I asked you a direct question.”

The blond boy lowered his head and murmured, “Yes, sir.”

Remus observed the frowning boy by Severus’ side. He hadn’t missed Devon’s slip of the tongue, either. “Devon, be in my office at seven.” The boy nodded, raising his hand to his jaw again. “Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?”

“No, sir,” Devon murmured.

When Remus took his eyes from Devon, he saw Nathan observing the blond boy with a smug expression in his face. “What Professor Snape said goes for you, too, Nathan. If I see you in a fight again, Gryffindor will lose more points than it lost today.” His words had the intended effect, and the smirk was gone from Nathan’s face.

“I’ll see you in my classroom at seven, Mr. Granger,” Severus said, turning to leave the Great Hall. Not turning back, he added, “Don’t be late.” Remus saw Nathan roll his eyes.

“Go to your classes,” he dismissed the boys, and when he was sure they would indeed avoid one another, Remus left for the dungeons.

He knocked at the door to the Potions master’s office, but didn’t wait the answer. He opened the door, stepped in and closed it behind him, and met the narrowed black eyes of the man across the room. “I don’t understand how you can see Nathan’s distress over this and do nothing,” he began. “Merlin knows! If I could have a child and it happened to be a son, I would want him to be just like Nathan. I would be so proud that I would want the world to know he was mine… and _you_ are Nathan’s father. _You_ have the right to say that wonderful boy is yours, but you choose otherwise, even knowing you’re making his life more difficult because of this ridiculous decision.”

Severus’ expression didn’t change throughout Remus rant; it was the same cold, blank one he often used. “Have you finished?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow in annoyance. “I have a class in ten minutes.”

Remus sighed and shook his head. “I know you can see it, Severus. I hope you can set your stubbornness aside in time.” He turned and left the office.

Severus sighed as soon as the door closed. What Lupin didn’t understand was that this was best for Nathan. He didn’t need to know Severus was his father, even with Devon taunting him. It was just a phase, and Nathan would soon forget all about it and see he didn’t need a father.

~o0oOo0o~

“Enter,” Severus answered the knock on the door of the Potions classroom. 

“Good evening, sir,” Nathan greeted, closing the door behind him and walking to the front of the room.

“Cauldrons, Mr. Granger. You know the procedure, no magic. I don’t think you will have any complaints after your Muggle display earlier today.”

Snape was right. Nathan didn’t complain and went mutely to the cauldrons. He started to scrub them and Severus continued to work on the essays.

From time to time, Severus lifted his eyes from the pile of nonsense the third-years insisted on writing to observe his son. He could see Nathan was really determined to finish his task as soon as possible. _Good_ , he thought. 

He heard the boy shelve the first cleaned cauldron and looked up from the essays again. The boy looked at him, and they locked eyes while Nathan walked back to the workbench where the second filthy cauldron of the evening awaited him. Not a word or a lifted eyebrow; nothing.

Although Snape was interpreting this lack of interaction as a good thing, he wouldn’t be honest with himself if he said he didn’t miss Nathan’s pointed looks, staring contests, and witty answers ever-present during the month of detentions they had shared. His boy was a puzzle, and this quiet, down-to-business version of him was a piece Snape hadn’t seen before.

Nathan had been so close to finding out the truth when he had eavesdropped on Lupin and Hermione in his office last weekend. What if he hadn’t arrived in time? Nathan would know he was his father, and... 

Severus watched Nathan work and contemplated what could have happen then, like he’d done so many times before. What would Nathan’s reaction have been? His rational self insisted that the boy would have hated him even more than he did already, but he couldn’t be sure. What if, against all odds, Nathan… No, he couldn’t hope for that. Severus knew better than to think someone would willingly accept him as part of their life. 

And then his thoughts betrayed him with the image of Hermione Granger. She had somehow willingly accepted him in her life when she raised his son. Try as he might, he couldn’t understand that. Besides, she even thought Nathan would accept him into his life, too… that he would even like to know he was his father. She of all people knew what he was capable of, and yet she kept saying things to encourage him to reveal himself to Nathan, to be part of his son’s life. Why now? Why not before, when Nathan was younger? _Because she is aware of the danger you are_ , he answered himself. But if that was true, why would she want to tell the boy now? Nathan was eleven, living in a boarding school; he wouldn’t need his parents for much longer. When he left Hogwarts he would be a young man, with his own life to build. He wouldn’t need a father anymore.

He concentrated on his task of marking essays again, shoving those thoughts aside, as he often did now. Not too long after that, Snape felt Nathan’s eyes on him. He didn’t take his own eyes off the essays, though. Some time passed, and he felt those black eyes on him again, but once more pretended he didn’t notice. He couldn’t ignore the boy’s looks anymore, though, when Nathan seemed more interested in observing him than cleaning the cauldron. “Your task is the cauldron, Mr. Granger. Try to pay attention to it,” he said, not taking his eyes from the parchment he was reading.

 _How did he do that?_ Nathan thought, looking to the cauldron now. _I’m sure he didn’t look up from whatever he’s marking, not even once since I started the second cauldron_. Nathan had always been impressed with Professor Snape’s awareness of his surroundings, even though he knew of the man’s past as a spy. 

Nathan had thought he could use this detention to watch Professor Snape, in a last hope to find something to add to his research of the man. The more he knew about the Potions master, the more he was intrigued by him. 

He continued cleaning the cauldron, going through all the information he had gathered on the wizard up until now. None of the sordid things he knew about Professor Snape’s past wasn’t common knowledge. He frowned, remembering what he’d read the night before about the Potions master’s role in the war. Most of it he knew already, but some of the information had been new and not a pleasant surprise. He’d learned of the crimes Professor Snape had been accused of committing, and although he knew his teacher had killed people, he always believed it had been in self-defense or on someone else’s orders, like his mother had told him. It was much like what his godfather and hero of the wizarding world had done. But learning his professor had tortured and killed people of his own free will had been disturbing. Nathan didn’t fear the wizard sitting at the desk in the front of him, but he mused on the reasons someone like him, with so many skills and such intelligence, would have felt the need to commit those crimes.

Nathan didn’t realize he’d stopped scrubbing the cauldron until Professor Snape’s voice startled him from his thoughts. “I don’t hear you working, Mr. Granger.”

Nathan mechanically restarted his movements, shoving those thoughts away for now. He quickly finished his task and left the dungeons.

~o0oOo0o~

The library was quiet that evening. It was close to curfew and few students were still working there, mostly Ravenclaws. In a corridor between high shelves, Nathan stood distracted, reading from a tome about star charts for his Astronomy essay, when the pale light coming from one of the lanterns was blocked by a shadow. Before he could react, his arms were clasped by strong hands. Not even the noise of the book hitting the stone floor alarmed the others to his predicament. The boys holding him didn’t give him choice, but he struggled to be released and reach for his wand anyway. “Let me go!”

“I told you were messing with the wrong wizard, Granger,” Malfoy said, surging from behind his minions.

“What do you want from me?” Nathan asked, still trying to break free.

“I’m here to make you pay for what you did in the Great Hall,” Devon answered, folding back one sleeve of his robes.

Nathan increased his efforts to free himself. “And you need two muscle mounts to help you?” The grip on his arms tightened. “I thought you were better than this.” He baited the Slytherin, but without success.

Devon laughed. “Did you think I would come for you unprepared? I’m not a stupid Gryffindor.” He approached Nathan. “Now you’ll learn not to mess with a Malfoy.”

The punch hit Nathan square in the jaw. It stung, but he didn’t utter a sound. Malfoy seemed disappointed with his lack of reaction to the aggression and hit him again, harder. This time the blow caught his face just below his left eye, and a gasp left his mouth at the pain he now felt. Devon took Nathan’s jaw in his hand and looked him in the eyes, smirking. 

“I think you’ve learned your lesson, Granger.” He released Nathan’s face, and started searching his captive’s robes. When he found Nathan’s wand, he took it and said to his companions, “Let the worm go.”

Nathan, now wandless, knew he didn’t hold a chance against the Slytherins. He just watched the boys walk away towards the door of the library and saw when Malfoy dropped his wand, turning to say in a sing-song voice, “Sleep well, Granger.” They left, laughing. 

Nathan narrowed his eyes, but it hurt to do that. He took a hand to his face, flinching from his own touch; he could fell the swelling already. He closed his eyes and sighed; he would have a bruise. Nathan picked the book up from the ground and shelved it, walked to where his wand was, picked it up, and went to the table where his things were. He collected them and left the library.

He headed to the common room, but then thought better of going inside. He knew his face was bruised and he didn’t want to deal with his friends right now. He kept walking and before he realized where he was going, he found himself staring out that big window on one of the higher floors, focusing on the distant lights of Hogsmeade.

He was still angry with what had happened in the library. Not because he had been beaten; it hadn’t been the first time he’d evoked the ire of someone, had ended up in a fight and had gotten the worst of it. He was angry because this would make his life even more unbearable than it was already. Malfoy would gloat over his triumph as part of his payback, and his friends would pity him even more when they saw the bruise on his face… When would this be over? 

No, he could deal with the stinging pain burning his face. Stronger than the pain was his feeling of helplessness and loneliness. No one knew what it was like to receive strange looks from people you didn’t even know; how it was to have people like Malfoy making snide remarks about your family every single day and do and say nothing in return; how frustrating it was to try to finally do something about it, only for it not to succeed. 

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe past the lump forming in his throat, and his vision of the shiny lights in the distant village blurred with what he knew were tears. He closed his eyes and let them fall. He felt so lonely. He wanted his mother’s arms around him, and thinking of her brought a new batch of tears to his eyes. He missed her so much. She was the only one who cared for him, and if she was here now, he wouldn’t give a second thought to his tantrum and would hug her with all his strength. But she wasn’t there and he hugged himself instead, whimpering. 

Entering the poorly lit hall was Severus Snape. He’d been surveying the school for students out after curfew, and there one was, the third tonight. He quietly moved closer, until he made out who the student was and halted his approach – it was his son. What was he doing out past curfew again? He opened his mouth to snap at the boy and his insistence on breaking the school rules, but his words were lost when he heard Nathan’s snivels – the boy was crying. _Great_ , he thought, annoyed, but in his heart he wanted to know what had made his boy cry. Thoughts of his own first year at Hogwarts invaded his mind. Boys taunting him, worry for his mother alone with his abusive father, lack of friends, days and nights of wandering the halls alone. Severus frowned, biter feelings reaching his heart.

“Enjoying the view?” Severus asked, startling the boy. “It’s past curfew, Mr. Granger – something I’m sure you know already.”

Nathan wiped his aching eyes and his running nose with the sleeve of his robe. _Why is it always Professor Snape?_ he thought.

“You’re becoming quite predictable, Mr. Granger. Tell me, why are you up here, _sniveling_?” He emphasized the last word. When no answer was coming, he demanded, “Look at me.”

Nathan hesitated.

“Look at me, Mr. Granger,” Severus repeated more annoyed.

Nathan complied. Severus was taken aback by the purple bruise under his son’s left eye, visible even in the weak light. Pulling out his wand, he lit its tip with a murmured _Lumos_ and brought the bluish light closer to his son’s face. Taking his other hand to tilt the boy’s head higher, he asked quietly, “Who did this?”

Nathan pondered on whether to tell the truth or not. Professor Snape wouldn’t punish Malfoy; he’d seen the closeness they had when his aggressor had addressed their professor much like Nathan did Harry and Ron. 

Severus could see the indecision in Nathan’s eyes. He didn’t need three chances to guess who had beaten him, and the boy’s hesitation was unnerving. _Is he afraid of Malfoy, now? Or is he afraid of me? Is he going to become shy and start sniveling again?_ Severus wouldn’t allow that. 

“I’ve asked you a simple question. Who. Did. This?” he said with more force in his voice.

“It doesn’t matter, sir. I don’t have proof and you won’t punish him without it,” Nathan said evenly.

“You don’t know what I will or will not do, boy,” Severus spat, annoyed. “It had never occurred to me that you were one of those few cowardly Gryffindors,” he said, watching his son’s eyes change in the light, “but then again, they do show up from time to time.” He made a dismissive gesture, and continued, “You’re also sniveling around the castle quite often. Maybe the Sorting Hat had made its first mistake in centuries; you should have been in Hufflepuff.”

“I’m not a coward,” Nathan strongly affirmed, “sir.”

Severus could see his son’s red-rimmed eyes flash with the feelings his words invoked, as intended. _Gryffindors are so easy to bait_ , he thought, amused. 

“So tell me who did this to you, and I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt,” Severus said, arching an eyebrow.

“You know quite well who did this, sir. And he had the help of two other Slytherins.”

“This half declaration is not the best argument to contradict my suppositions, Mr. Granger, but I think it’s all your courage allows.” Nathan’s eyes were bright with anger under his wand light. “Come with me.”

He turned and Nathan followed. They walked in silence for a while, until the boy spoke again. “This is not the way to my common room, sir.”

“No, it’s not.” When he heard his son’s intake of air to undoubtedly ask of their destination, he elaborated, “I’m taking you to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll take care of this ugly bruise before I escort you to Gryffindor.”

Nothing was said during the remainder of their walk to the Hospital Wing. They entered the empty ward, and Severus said, “Stay here,” and left to fetch the mediwitch. 

She surged from a small door, closing her dressing gown. Severus came just behind. She asked Nathan to sit on one of the beds. “Oh, dear boy!” she exclaimed when she saw Nathan’s injury. “What happened?” Nathan didn’t answer, and Severus watched him intently.

Madam Pomfrey cast several spells on the boy to be sure that was the only wound, and only when she seemed satisfied with her diagnoses did she bring out the healing salve. “I’ll apply this to the wound and it will take from ten to fifteen minutes to absorb and do its job. Once done, you won’t feel any pain and no bruise will be seen,” she explained, and proceeded to rub the salve on Nathan’s face.

Nathan flinched with the first touch, hissing his pain, but didn’t protest further. Severus stood at the mediwitch’s side, observing the procedure. She finished the application of the yellowish medicine, and addressed the man, “Will you be accompanying him to his common room, Severus?” 

Snape nodded.

“I’ll retire, then. Try to catch who did this to the boy,” she added, aggravated, and left the ward.

There was a heavy silence in the air. Nathan had his hands clasped in his lap, his head down, staring unseeing to the floor. Severus’ eyes never left his son, and seeing him this down was making him uneasy. 

“Let me see if the salve is absorbing,” Severus said quietly. Nathan looked up; his eyes still a little red from his crying earlier. “You shouldn’t cry in the halls where others can see you,” Severus caught himself saying. “You don’t want people calling you a sniveling boy, believe me,” he mumbled, the word _Snivellus_ coming to mind in the voice of a Marauder. 

Nathan stared at his professor, confused. Severus felt awkward already for saying those few words of advice, and didn’t like the way the boy was looking at him. He raised his voice and said, “Let’s get going, I have more important things to do than baby-sit Gryffindors.” He was in control again. 

Nathan frowned. Just for a moment, Professor Snape had seemed almost nice, but in another he was back to saying how much of a burden Nathan was. He stood from the bed and started walking to the door behind his professor.

~o0oOo0o~

The fire turned green, calling Hermione’s attention. A head with messy raven hair appeared. 

“Hermione? Are you home?”

She stood from her desk where she was grading essays, and stepped in front of the hearth, into Harry’s sight range. “I am, Harry.”

“Can I step through, or are you too busy?”

“No, no. Come in.” Hermione waited until her friend was fully in her living room. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, just fine,” Harry answered, brushing ash from his dark blue robes. They hugged. “What about you? Too much work, I see,” he said, pointing to the pile of papers on her desk.

“End of term is always a busy time for teachers. How are Ginny and the kids?” Hermione asked.

“They’re great. The kids are all excited with Christmas coming, and that’s why I’m here. We want you and Nathan to spend Christmas with us. The whole Weasley clan confirmed already. Remus and Tonks should come, too. Now, to complete the family meeting, it’s only you and Nathan left,” Harry said, smiling.

Hermione smiled sadly. “I don’t know if we’ll be good company.”

Harry frowned. “What are you talking about, Hermione?”

“Nathan isn’t talking with me right now, and I don’t know if we’ll be on good terms again by Christmas.”

“He’s not talking with you? How did that happen?” he asked, confused.

“We had a fight, a bad one,” she said, averting her eyes from the wizard in front of her.

“Was it about his father?” Harry asked, knowing the answer already.

Hermione sighed. “Yes,” she said simply, and sat on the couch. 

Harry followed, watching her intently.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I can’t tell him yet. I wish things weren’t this complicated,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the crackling fire.

“Did you explain this to him?”

“Yes,” she answered impatiently, looking back at Harry. “He can’t understand it. He called me a liar, accused me of making his life a living hell, and said he wouldn’t talk to me until I had a name to tell him.

“I just can’t, Harry. I’ve waited this long and I want to make things right. I can’t put everything at risk after more than eleven years.”

“I know this is difficult for you, that you must have good reasons to keep this a secret from all of us, but you’ve always said that you would reveal the truth once Nathan was older. Why are you taking so long, Hermione?” he asked her.

“I knew this would be a difficult year, with Nathan leaving for Hogwarts and all. I thought I would be ready to deal with this whole mess when the time came, but the truth is that I’m not ready. I thought I was, but I’m not. This is not how I imagined it would be, Harry. I want to end this once and for all, and I know Nathan is ready, but he’s not the only one involved.”

“I see,” Harry said, lowering his head. “I wish I could help, but there is not much I can do, not knowing the truth myself,” he pointed out.

Hermione knew Harry had never really forgiven her for keeping this from him, but she knew better than to reveal the truth now. Harry and Severus hadn’t grow out of their hatred for one another, and if she told Harry that Severus was Nathan’s father, she didn’t know what he would do. No, as much as she wanted to tell him, she couldn’t either. 

“I’m sorry, Harry. I’ll tell you everything one day,” she apologized.

Harry sighed. “What are you going to do about Nathan? Do you want me to talk with him?” 

“No, I’ll talk to him this weekend. We’ve been through this before. He can’t ignore me forever, right?” she said, smiling sadly again. “If he insists on not listening to me, I might need you.”

“I’ll be here,” Harry said, smiling back at her. “And even if you aren’t speaking, I can give him hell over Christmas, so you don’t have any excuse to refuse my invitation, Hermione.”

“All right,” she agreed, her smile more sincere, “we’ll be there.”

“Great,” he said, standing from the couch, “Ginny will be trilled, and so will Lily.” 

Hermione stood, too.

Harry sobered a little. “I have to go now, but don’t hesitate in calling me, okay?”

“I’m sure everything will be all right,” she assured him.

He nodded. “I know it will.” He hugged her again and went for the Floo powder. “I’ll see you in two weeks.” Harry called out his destination and was soon gone in the green flames. 

Hermione sighed and went back to her pile of essays. She still didn’t know what to do with Nathan, or with Severus. God, they were both so stubborn! Well, she would talk to them again on the weekend and could only hope that they would listen this time.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus strode into the laboratory, resolute. “He knows. I’ve told him.”

Hermione stopped everything she’d been doing and stared at him in surprise. “How did he take it?”

“He’s fine,” Severus assured her. “You were right; he was ready to know.”

She released the breath she’d been holding with a long sigh. “I told you he would like to know you were his father.” Hermione bypassed the workbench to stand in front of him and took his hands in hers. “How do you feel about it?”

He didn’t shy from her touch. “As much as I can’t understand why you had him in the first place, I’m glad you did.”

“I had him because he was your son. I’ve always thought of you as a great man, Severus. I knew the world could use of an heir of yours, and he was the result of your loyalty, courage and hope in my future. Thank you for that, and for giving me a chance to explain my reasons.”

“I respect them, Hermione.”

The mention of her given name brought her eyes up from his hands. She drowned in the intensity of his gaze and disentangled a hand to delicately brush back that stubborn strand of hair from his face. He closed his eyes under her gentle touch. “Hermione,” he whispered.

“Severus,” she answered in a whisper of her own, and it was all she could say before his lips touched hers. The kiss was tentative, gentle, and she thanked him for the arm supporting her now. She melted in the sensations, until…

…the alarm clock brought her back from her dreams. It was seven-thirty, and her real life demanded her to wake up and go to work. She licked her dry lips and sighed for the loss of her dreamy Severus. _Of course it was another dream_ , she thought. She had had others, and they were happening far too often for her own good.

She sighed again when she thought of the real Severus. Every time they’d talked, they had argued. Would he ever see past what happened between them that night? She hoped he would, just like her dream Severus had. Hermione knew they could have an almost friendly acquaintance. They had worked well enough together during the war, preparing everything for the final battle. Well enough until that night. If things had been different, if she hadn’t been captured and he hadn’t had to save her, what would have become of their relationship then? Would they had grown close and become friends? She didn’t think so. As much as Hermione thought they had a good rapport after he wasn’t her teacher anymore, she couldn’t see Severus becoming friends with her without a fight. The thought that followed made her smile; she would have fought.

If it wasn’t for her evident pregnancy, that she had decided to keep from him, trying not to add to his problems, Hermione would have kept in touch with Severus whether he had been willing or not. If only she had told him of Nathan before… What could have happened then? Would he have been easier to convince, or would he have been just as stubborn as he was being now? If only he could see past his stubbornness. Hermione was sure he could be a good father. Nathan would be much happier with him, _and so would I_. A light smile played in Hermione’s mouth at the possibility of real kisses from a very real Severus, and she left her bed for a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, the chapter is over! Where is Christmas? I know I’ve promised Christmas would be in this chapter but the word count made me change my mind. The chapter was too long, and I had to split it.
> 
> Now, what did you think of this chapter? I love to hear from you, so leave me a review. :0) 
> 
> **Coming next…** Hermione goes to Hogwarts to make sure they’ll have a happy Christmas.


	18. Winter Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to Hogwarts to make sure they’ll have a happy Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eighteen! Hermione goes to Hogwarts to make sure they’ll have a happy Christmas. Let’s see if she succeeds!
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READERS FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy and Poultrygeist – thank you very much!

All the cheerful Christmas decorations in the castle were only adding to the Potions master’s foul mood. Severus had slept poorly these past nights. It seemed that as much as his conscious self was in control of his emotions, while unconscious his mind worked of his own volition. He’d dreamed of things he didn’t even know were still in his mind; snapshots of his childhood, his first years at Hogwarts, all haunting him in his sleep, and all because of that night he found his boy crying in the halls.

Severus sipped at his juice, wondering one last time if there wasn’t another way. Deciding there wasn’t, he left his seat, and when he passed behind Hermione’s, he stopped only long enough to say, “Meet me in my office after you’re done,” and resumed walking to a side door of the Great Hall.

Hermione was taken by surprise at Severus’ invitation. _And such a civil one, at that_ , she thought, when compared to their last encounters. Her eyes went immediately to Nathan. He seemed normal, or as normal as he’d been ever since they had stopped talking to each other: ignoring her and eating quietly, eventually commenting on something he heard, and never smiling or laughing. She was waiting until the end of the meal to talk to him, but now Severus requested that time. _If it’s something about the lab…_ she thought, annoyed already.

Well, if it was something professional, she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to talk with him about more pressing issues. Severus was on her list of decisive talks for this weekend. She was tired of waiting for him to come to his senses. Hermione knew there was more of her dreamy version in him than could readily be seen, and she would make him show it, she decided.

Having finished with her dinner, Hermione left the Great Hall for her meeting, making sure to pass by the Gryffindor table. “Good evening, boys,” she greeted Nathan’s friends, who greeted her back. She addressed her son, who had his back to her. “I want to talk to you, Nathan. I’ll meet you outside the common room in one hour.” She was not asking. “Be there,” she added, to leave no doubt.

Nathan nodded, never turning to look at her, and she left to meet the other party in this mess. 

The walk between the Great Hall and Severus’ office felt different somehow. The students who crossed her path looked at her with an interest that wasn’t there before. It couldn’t be the _war hero_ thing; there was something disapproving in their gazes. _What happened here during the week?_ she mused, but didn’t have much time to think on it. She was in front of Severus’ office already. She knocked.

“Enter.” 

“Good evening, Severus,” she greeted, closing the door behind her. “What is it that you want to talk about?”

She waited for a snide reply, but it never came. Severus stood from his chair and proceeded to ward the office, before sitting back by his desk. _Nothing about the lab, then_ , she concluded. _Are my dreams coming true? Has he finally considered what I said and understood what I did?_ She could only hope.

“You should talk to your son,” he began, and the little hope she had of him finally coming to senses was gone with the word _your_. “He has not been himself since his situation gained the attention of the student body,” he informed her.

“Oh, no!” she said, aggravated, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “I knew something had happened during this week; the kids were looking at me differently,” she said. The situation had grown to catastrophic proportions. It had ceased to exist solely between the three of them, and now it was public. Of course Nathan was not himself.

“He must be so sad,” she commented. “He became depressed for weeks when this happened at his old school, and with all that has been going on…” she trailed off. “How did this happen?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “I think he told those friends of his, and they let it slip. Typical Gryffindors,” he mumbled. “Most probably Mr. Malfoy was around and the rest is history.”

“Typical Slytherin,” she mumbled. He arched an eyebrow. She wanted to smile at that, but managed to maintain a serious expression and say, “May I assume that Mr. Malfoy has been taunting him at every possible opportunity?”

“They were involved in a fist fight,” he revealed. 

“What? Nathan beat Malfoy?” Hermione asked, surprised.

“What make you believe that he wasn’t the one beaten?” Severus asked.

She looked at him speculatively. “I would assume that Nathan is the more experienced in this kind of confrontation; this is not the first fist fight he has got himself into, Severus,” she pointed out. “Our son is not a saint, and I know that.”

He didn’t correct her phrasing that Nathan was _their_ son, which pleased her. “I saw when he punched Mr. Malfoy in the Great Hall, although I missed when Mr. Malfoy punched him back later that day. I found him crying in the halls, which he seems to have been doing quite frequently,” he pointed out. “I’ve told him to stop, but I think he needs to hear this from you.” 

_He cares_ , she realized. _He really cares_. Hermione couldn’t take his eyes off Severus. Was she dreaming? “It’s nice of you to worry.” But why was he worried with Nathan crying? Why was it so important to him? She decided to ask and see if her dreams were really coming true. “But why worry over him crying in the halls, of all things?”

“Because this behavior is not tolerated among children his age, and he will soon find himself the laugh of the school if someone other than me happens to find him sniveling in some corner.” 

Hermione wondered at Severus’ tone. Somehow, it seemed that was more to it than he was telling her. She persisted. “Do you speak from experience as a teacher, or as a student who went through the same thing?”

“Children can be mean, Granger. I hardly _asked_ to be called Snivellus, did I?” he answered bitterly.

An awkward silence fell between them. How could she have known that he’d been through this, too? “I’m sorry, Severus. I didn’t know-”

“Your pity will hardly change that fact,” he interrupted her. 

Hermione fixed her brown eyes on him. “I don’t pity you; I never did.” 

Severus held her gaze for a while, then returned to the subject of their meeting. “I’m only here as a teacher to warn you of your son’s behavior. It’s my duty to keep him from harm.”

Hermione was getting tired of his subtleties. “I can see he’s still only _my_ son,” she said. She knew that he cared; her requested presence in this office and what had prompted it were evidence enough. “We both know you care for him, so why pretend?”

“I thought we could spend an evening without arguing,” he said, the meaning of his words not lost in Hermione.

She sighed. “Very well, Severus. I won’t insist,” she said, _for now_ , she added to herself. If she had to wait a little longer, she would, but not too long. Hermione wouldn’t give up. He would see her reasons, and everything would be like it was supposed to be. 

The revelation that he was looking out for Nathan was a good indicative that he wouldn’t resist forever. She looked up at him, intently staring at those obsidian eyes. This moment wasn’t a creation of her mind; he was the _real_ Severus – the closest he had ever become to her dreamy version of him, but still very real. The thought of her dreams eventually coming true made her smile.

Severus was uncomfortable with the way she was looking at him. He could see her brain working, and when she smiled, it was too much. He stood and walked to the door. 

“That was what I had to say. If you don’t mind, I have work to do,” he said, dismissing her.

Hermione stood and walked to where he was by the door. Still smiling, she turned to face him once more. “I hope this kind of discussion will become a constant from now on. It’s so much easier when we talk instead of argue. Thank you for letting me know what has happened, Severus. I’ll talk to Nathan.” 

Her mouth slowly lost the soft smile as her eyes traveled over his face, following the length of that stubborn strand of hair crossing his eye to the middle of his cheek. Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione had her hand level with his face as she reached to brush it back. When she realized what she was about to do, she fixed her eyes on his again, seeing the confusion in them. Her hand touched his face in a feather-light caress, tucking the lock of hair behind his ear. “Thank you for taking care of him for me, Severus,” she said, placing a soft kiss where her hand had been just moments before, and left the room.

Severus stared at the door through which this mystery had just left. Her smile had been confusing; her sincere brown eyes burning into his black ones had been unsettling. But nothing compared to the gentlest of touches and the softness of her lips over his pale flesh. How could she even touch him after all he had done to her? What had prompted such an open display of… affection? Could he call it that? And towards him, of all people? He, who had caused her so much pain, didn’t deserve it. Severus closed his eyes, stunned.

He had called her to his office to ease his troubled mind, to tell her to talk to the boy and stop him sniveling around the castle, thus preventing Nathan from a fate much like his own. He had never thought she would… that she could… Dreams were supposed to remain dreams. In reality, they would be just too complicated to deal with, and Hermione Granger had jumped out of his dreams with her actions this evening, bringing new thoughts to trouble his mind.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan stood waiting for his mother in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, who had decorated her canvas for the upcoming Festive season. He had been waiting this Friday to talk to her, and he was glad she had been the one to make the first move. This would make things easier, he hoped.

His thoughts of what he would say as soon as she arrived to meet him were interrupted by the chance to actually say them, when Hermione greeted him, “Hello, Nathan.”

“Hi, Mum.” And nothing else left his mouth, not because he didn’t want to talk to her, but because he was the worst for apologizing.

“Let’s take a walk,” she suggested. He nodded, and they started walking.

After a couple of corridors passed through in silence, Hermione spoke again. “We need to work through our differences, Nathan. You can’t ignore me forever, and I won’t tell you what you want to know just because you threaten to ignore me.”

“I know,” he admitted. “I was angry.”

More silence followed that first exchange of words. Nathan broke it this time. “I’m sorry I called you a liar.”

Hermione sighed, relieved. “It was really mean to say, Nathan. It hurts to hear you calling me that when you know it’s not true.” She looked at him. “I never lied to you.”

He stopped in the middle of the deserted corridor, and his mother stopped, too. “I know, Mum.” He hugged her really tightly. “I’m sorry I said that, and that I yelled at you, and that I ran from you.”

She wrapped her arms tightly around him, and he felt like everything would be all right again, as if every problem he had was now solved because he had his mother with him, placing soft kisses on the top of his head.

“I missed you so much, Nathan,” she whispered.

“I missed you, too, Mum,” he answered. “I’ll never do that again. I missed you so, so much.” He knew his voice was high and quivering with the effort to hold back tears, and he knew she realized that.

“I’m here now, I’m with you,” she soothed, stroking his back. Tears fell from his eyes, and he felt her tears dampening his hair. He held onto her until he felt calmer again. When he was in his mother’s arms, everything seemed better. She brushed his hair back and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I know you’ve been through a lot this week. Don’t be bothered about what other people say, especially Malfoy,” she said. 

“He was insulting you, Mum. I couldn't listen to his voice anymore, it was annoying me so much,” he said, frowning at the remembrance.

“I know. He will annoy you even more if you show that you care. Punching people in the Great Hall is not going to make it stop, only time will,” she explained.

“But I can’t let him insult my family and just watch!” he said, vexed.

“You can go to the teachers. Professor Lupin, your Head of House, could help you. Breaking the rules and hurting another student will not.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and rested his head against her again.

His mother stroked his hair. “Now, there is no need to cry over it. You shouldn’t let these things get to you so much. I know everyone feels like crying sometimes; it’s only natural, but crying in the halls can make things even more complicated for you. Act like you normally do, and if you feel like crying or punching things, do it in your bed using your pillow for a target.”

She felt him nod his understanding after a moment, as he undoubtedly took her words to heart. “There is only one more week until winter break, and then you’ll come home. We’ll spend all the time together,” she said to cheer him up. “And there is Christmas. Harry invited us to spend it with him. It’ll be a lot of fun.” Her smile was soothing, and Nathan found himself smiling back.

“Will the Weasleys be there?”

“Of course,” she answered him. “And I bet they’ll have the most interesting games. You, Lily and Sirius will have a great time, I’m sure.”

They started walking again, now that everything was all right. They continued to talk about Christmas and the end of the term, and life was safe again, now that he had his mother back.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione contemplated her weekend as she lay down in the comfort of her bed back in London. She had gone to Hogwarts to make sure their Christmas would be good, and she was happy with her accomplishments.

First on her list had been Nathan; he was always first on any of her lists. It had been a pleasant surprise to meet him calmer and willing to solve their differences this time around. She didn’t like the idea of forcing him to see reason; she liked him to make his own choices and decisions, but this weekend she would have made him see, whatever means she was obliged to have used to achieve her goal. It was a good thing she didn’t have to go too far.

Her second mission – Severus – had been just as successful. What a pleasant surprise, when she had entered his office to find that he cared for Nathan; more than pleasant, if she thought of the bonus the end of that meeting brought. She smiled with the remembrance. His hair was just as soft as in her dreams, his skin warm and pleasant to the touch. She had been tempted to kiss him on more than just his cheek, but the confusion in his eyes told her it wasn’t the right time. She had enjoyed it, anyway.

Sure enough, Severus had avoided her for the rest of the weekend, meeting her during the meals, and even then, never exchanging more than one or two words of greeting, and then only in return of hers. What soothed her heart were the glances he sent her way every time he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Hermione smiled at that, content. She was sure she had given him much to think about, and she hoped he would come to the right conclusions. But who knew what went through Severus Snape’s mind? She could only hope.

If all progressed the way she wanted, it was indeed only a question of time until her dreams came true – all of them. Nathan and Severus would grow closer, their latter’s true identity revealed painlessly, and Severus would let her into his life and his heart just as he would Nathan. She hadn’t felt this confident in her future since the day she found out she was a witch.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus has never longed so much for a term to end since the days Harry Potter had been a student at Hogwarts. Tomorrow he would be free from most of the students, since a few insisted on spending the holidays in the castle. To show how affected he’d been by the events of this term, he’d almost been tempted to retreat to the solitude of his summer house, but the ghosts of his past that lived there were worse than the company he’d have at Hogwarts.

His mind was tired; acting as a spy once again was getting to him. He had been keeping an eye on Nathan and Devon since the events of last week. He hadn’t found Nathan crying anymore, which was a good sign, but he had witnessed Devon taunting his boy several times since their last fist fight. He hadn’t interfered yet. He felt the need to observe his son’s reactions to those taunts a little longer before putting an end to them. He noticed that Nathan wasn’t responding to Devon’s provocations anymore, but it didn’t mean he has been unaffected by them. Severus was sure Nathan was withdrawing into himself, dealing with his frustrations alone, in private. He had done that himself many times in his youth.

And that was what concerned Severus the most. Nathan shouldn’t follow steps that resembled even a shadow of his own. The idea of his son’s life path being similar to his was very disturbing. He was keeping himself from the boy’s life to avoid that already, and it wouldn’t do for his efforts be thrown aside simply because of the taunts of another school boy; he wouldn’t have any of that! Severus sighed at the thought of having to interfere once again.

This time he couldn’t count on Hermione Granger. This time he would have to act directly, and that was what he was lamenting. He had examined his possibilities carefully, infinite times by now, and he was certain he had no other option as effective as the one currently in his mind.

Resigned, Severus left the warmth of his bed and entered his living room, searching the shelves that covered the big wall for the book he would need to go on with that bold plan. _Here_ , he thought when he found the book he’d been looking for. _Know the Unseen: Revealing Potions_. He took the tome with him to the desk and opened it, scanning the index for a specific potion. Finding it, he went through the list of required ingredients and the time it would take for it to be completed, and was satisfied that he had just enough time to brew it before Christmas.

Severus read everything twice, taking notes. When he was content that he had everything planned for the brewing, he stood from his desk and went back to his bed. He dropped his tired body onto the mattress and closed his eyes, going through his well-practiced Occlumency exercises to effectively clear his mind of all thoughts. He had almost abandoned them since the Dark Lord had fallen for good, but he’d been searching them for the means to fight another of his new acquired troubles: Hermione Granger.

She has been invading his dreams ever since last Friday, when she unexpectedly and unexplainably had touched and kissed him. _Out of gratitude_ , he added mentally. Even so, it was more than enough to make him long for more gentle touches and many more kisses. He inadvertently thought of how she would thank him for what he would be preparing as of tomorrow, and annoyed, restarted the exercise to clear his mind of the images conjured by his desires. She wasn’t to be his, not even in dreams, and with a clear mind, his breathing evened, and he was at the mercy of unconscious thoughts.

By morning, Severus had a satisfied smile lingering in his thin lips while he slowly left his dreamy Hermione and drifted to wakefulness. The smile faded from his face and a groan escaped him as soon as he realized she had successfully invaded his dreams again. Annoyed and frustrated, Severus threw his bed covers away from him and entered his bathroom, already disposing of his pajama shirt.

The cold shower was good to put his body at bay, but only added to his foul mood that morning. He had only one class today, the last of the term, and he was looking forward to the end of it. Leaving the shower, he dried himself with a practiced spell, dressed in his darkness and left for breakfast. _Let the day begin, so it can end already_ , he thought.

He ate quietly, successfully refraining from conversation with the others at the Head Table after some cross answers when Minerva’s attempted to engage him in conversation. That was until someone called him, “Professor Snape, sir?”

He looked down at the child interrupting his meal. “What is it, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Father sent this to me, and asked me to give it to you,” the boy said, delivering a piece of parchment. Severus accepted it.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, dismissing Devon, who nodded and went back to finish his breakfast with the other Slytherins.

Severus opened the parchment.

_**Dear Severus,** _

_**My family and I request the honor of your presence this Christmas. Gifts are not necessary, just leave the dungeons this year and show up for a change. There will not be many Ministry officials, only the beautiful, female ones.** _

_**Rest assured that I will show up and hex you on Christmas Eve, or else hex myself, should you not accept my invitation through Devon.** _

_**Yours,** _

_**Draco Malfoy** _

_Now this_ , he thought, going through in his mind of all the things that could go wrong next to make his day even worse. He sighed in defeat. If Draco was threatening to hex himself, thus calling on the Vow, he had little choice in the matter.

Severus yanked the quill from Flitwick’s little hands, ignored the wizard’s protests and wrote his answer below Draco’s _invitation._

 _ **Fine.**_

He returned the quill to its annoyed owner and left his seat and his half-eaten breakfast, heading for the Slytherin table.

“Send it back to your father, Mr. Malfoy,” he said, giving the parchment back to Devon.

“Are you coming for Christmas, Unc-”

“Yes, I am,” Severus cut Devon before he had finished addressing him as Uncle, which annoyed him greatly.

Devon smiled. “That’s great, sir.”

Severus left the Great Hall, resigned to his fate.

~o0oOo0o~

“See you next term, Nathan,” Andy called from where he’d met with his parents at the platform.

“See you, Andy,” Nathan called back, pushing the trolley to the exit of platform nine and three quarters, back to Muggle London with his mother by his side.

“How was the trip from Hogsmeade?” Hermione asked.

“Tiring,” Nathan answered.

“I think it’s straight home, then?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder in a half hug.

“Definitely,” he answered.

They left King’s Cross Station in silence. It could be that Nathan was simply tired from the trip, as he’d said, but even if he was tired, there was something she didn’t like about his silence; she would be certain when they got home. She thought they could use the Underground, as they always had, but now that he was at Hogwarts… “Would you like me to Apparate us home?”

“That would be good,” he agreed.

“Come here, then.” She beckoned him into an obscured alley, away from curious eyes. “Hold on to me,” she instructed, and a squeezing moment later, they were standing in the living room of their flat. 

“Thanks, Mum,” he said and relaxed visibly.

“Why don’t you take your things to your room while I’ll prepare something to eat?” she suggested. Nathan nodded and went to his room. Hermione stared after him for a moment, passed by the living room to light the fire in the hearth, before going to the kitchen.

 _He’s not just tired from the trip_ , she thought to herself. _It must be Malfoy_ , she concluded, _or Severus_. She sighed. At least he was home now, away from them both. She saw Nathan’s shadow through the doorway when he crossed into the living room.

“You have new books!” she heard him say, and a smile crossed her features. “Oh! Medieval wars…”

She finished preparing the sandwiches and entered the living room. Nathan was curled up on the couch facing the hearth, a book in his hand. 

“Careful with that one; it’s borrowed and I don’t want greasy stains on it,” she said, handing him a plate with a sandwich.

Nathan closed the book and placed it on the couch, accepting the plate. “Who is it borrowed from?”

“William,” she answered casually. “Do you want some juice?”

“Yes.” He accepted the filled glass. “Who is William?” he asked then.

“He works at the university with me,” she explained, sitting beside him on the couch. 

Nathan ate half of his sandwich quietly, and just as she drank from her glass, he asked, “Are you dating him?”

She almost splashed juice all over herself.

She composed herself and retorted, “No, I’m not dating him. Where did that question come from?”

“You’re borrowing his books and trying to change the subject, so…” Nathan shrugged and went back to his lunch.

“Well, I’m not dating him, or anyone,” she insisted, “and if I was, I wouldn’t be avoiding the subject.”

Nathan arched an eyebrow mid-bite, and that was all the response she got.

“Would you mind if I had a… a relationship?” she asked hesitantly.

Nathan chewed calmly, watching her intently. “Do you like him that much?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m not talking of anyone specifically. I’m not dating William.”

“Who are you dating, then?”

“I’m not dating anyone,” she said again, annoyed. “Forget I even asked you.”

He drank the rest of his juice, still looking at her from over the rim of the glass. “If you like him, and he treats you well, I don’t mind,” he finally answered.

She looked at him, waiting for the sarcastic observation she knew was to follow. It never did, though.

“Can I read his book?” Nathan asked, curling up again with said book in his hands.

“Go ahead,” she answered before leaving the room with the used dishes. _That was too easy_ , she thought. Maybe her boy was growing up. She looked at him from where she was in the kitchen and saw him totally lost in the book already. She smiled.

Quietly, she re-entered the room, took the book she was reading from a side table, and sat next to him, like they used to do before he went to Hogwarts. She sighed contently.

She was engrossed in her reading when Nathan broke her concentration by snuggling closer to her and resting his head on her lap. She smiled, and fondled his soft hair, turning her attention back to the pages of the book again.

She missed these moments so much. Hermione was glad to be able to spend another holiday as they always had. Although her secret had been discovered by Severus and others, Nathan was still oblivious. She would make the best of it and work to have Severus with them next year.

~o0oOo0o~

The potion was cooling and it was perfectly colorless. The last stage of the brewing had been the most captious: the charms. Although it was nothing compared to the spells he had to cast during the preparation of the Wolfsbane, Severus was pleased nonetheless. He still needed to add the liquid to the enchanted flasks and cast the proper linking spells before sending one to its new owner, and Severus would do that just before leaving for Malfoy Manor. The extra time the potion would remain in the cauldron would guarantee that any residual magic would be released, which was important to the success of the last step.

Severus retreated to his chambers and took a quick shower to wash away the sticky feeling an afternoon of brewing always left. After that, he chose a set of black dress robes and went back to his lab. 

Taking two small, flat, round-shaped phials, he poured the liquid into them. With a complex wave of his wand and some intoned words in an ancient language, both flasks glowed gold and a tongue of light appeared between them, creating a luminous connection. The seven colors of the rainbow flashed through this tongue of light, before it changed back to gold and disappeared. The linking was done.

Now, all he had to do was add one of the phials to the thin silver frame that connected it to the silver chain. Adjusting it magically, it was done – and it was perfect. He admired his work with smug satisfaction, knowing that now he would have means to monitor the boy properly, preventing him from sulking alone and unnoticed. 

He took the chain and put it into the box on his desk, closed it and attached the carefully written note he had prepared earlier to it. Severus summoned a house-elf and instructed the magical creature to deliver his package to its destination, then left Hogwarts to Apparate just outside Malfoy Manor.

He entered the elegantly decorated hall of the manor, being received by none other than the host for the night: Draco Malfoy. “Ah, Severus Snape,” the man saluted. “I’m glad you could come.”

“It’s not as if I had any choice,” Severus mumbled, and his night of social torment began.

Severus tried to mingle without really interacting. He wanted to be part of the background, and he proved he was still good at it. He would stay for as long as it took to distract Draco, and he knew it wouldn’t take too much time with the rate his protégé was consuming his drinks.

Time had passed. Standing in a corner of the room, Severus observed the party; it was almost time to go back to Hogwarts. His eyes caught Draco, sitting on a couch near his wife, Pansy. They had smug expressions on their faces. Draco was murmuring something into Pansy’s ear. He followed their line of sight and saw a group of children playing with some sort of magical device, Devon among them. 

Severus watched his godson assume the control of the game, taking the magical device from a younger child’s hands, who looked scared of the blond boy. It was a repetition of what Severus had witnessed so many times at Hogwarts; first with Draco, now with Devon.

Severus looked back to the couple on the couch, and was aggravated by their indifference. Didn’t Draco see? Devon was becoming the same spoiled boy he once was and now said he so despised. _If it was Nathan becoming a bully, I wouldn’t just watch_ , he thought and wasn’t surprised by it, for once. After a week of brewing that potion for the necklace, he wasn’t about to ignore the realization that he wanted the best for his son. That included making Devon stop taunting Nathan. 

Severus aborted his plans to leave the party unnoticed and approached Draco and Pansy. 

“Ah, Severus! Just the man we needed,” Draco said, watching him coming their way. “We were just trying to match every bachelor here. Who do you prefer, the short blonde over there or that beautiful brunette in that corner?” Severus saw Pansy elbow her husband. “What?” Draco asked his wife.

“I’m not interested in your matchmaking abilities,” Severus answered before Pansy could berate her husband.

“You seemed to have enjoyed Lancy last summer. I thought my matchmaking abilities were working for you.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “Instead of distracting yourself with my love life, you should spend more time watching your son.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked.

“Didn’t you see what he just did to those children?” Snape retorted.

“What?” Draco shifted his attention to the group of kids. “Devon is just playing with them. What’s wrong with that?”

“He really can’t see,” Severus muttered. “Devon is becoming the same spoiled brat you were.”

Pansy frowned and was about to say something to placate him, when Draco said, “Devon is nothing like I was.” His tone was final. “I’m nothing like my father.”

“No, you’re not. But that doesn’t mean you can’t raise a spoiled child too. The difference is that I don’t have to sit and watch like I had to. There is no Dark Lord.”

Draco frowned.

“Well, it’s a lovely Christmas party, and I’m glad I could come. Thank you for your invitation,” Severus said sarcastically, turned his back to the Malfoys and making for the door. He had had enough of socializing for the rest of the year.

~o0oOo0o~

“Are you ready, Mum?”

Nathan was waiting by the hearth. It was time to head for Harry’s house, where they would spend Christmas. Harry had visited them earlier that week to ask them to also spend the night, so they could enjoy Christmas morning together. Harry was always so enthusiastic about what he called _family reunions_ , and Hermione couldn’t say no. 

Nathan was looking forward to Christmas this year, more than the previous. The last time his mother had accepted one of Harry’s invitations, Nathan had been eight; now he was almost twelve and knew much more about the Wizarding world than before. It wouldn’t be the same if they spent Christmas with their Muggle relatives, who they only met at Christmas, anyway. It wasn’t like Harry or Ron, who visited regularly, or at least corresponded with them often.

“Did you take the extra sweater?” Hermione asked, entering the living room.

“Mum, we went through this in the morning, when we packed,” Nathan answered, impatient.

“It was outside the bag,” she justified.

“I took it. Can we go now?”

Hermione looked around once more, as if checking to assure everything was like it was supposed to be. “Yes.”

Nathan took some powder from a jar by the hearth, threw it over the still-warm burned wood, and said, “Number twelve, Grimmauld Place.” He stepped into the green flames, instantaneously feeling his surrounds swirl in a blur of colors.

Some swirls later, he fell in front of a lighten hearth, unable to keep his balance. If it wasn’t so quick, he would never Floo again. He heard a voice call his name, and then felt a hand on his arm, helping him stand. When he was positive he wasn’t dizzy anymore, he opened his eyes to meet Aunt Ginny’s smiling face. “Thanks, Aunt Ginny.”

“Dizzy?” she asked, still holding his arm.

“Not anymore, thanks,” he said, not admitting how he really felt. 

When he was steady enough to take in his surroundings, all he could see was a red apron. “Look how tall you are!” He was now being hugged by the red apron, or rather, by the woman wearing it. “Hermione, dear, he is a handsome young man already! You shouldn’t let it go that long without visiting us.”

“They grow up too fast, Molly. I agree,” Hermione answered, still brushing the ash from her clothes, and Nathan was glad that the Weasley matriarch had released him to hug his mother instead. 

“How is my favorite godson doing?” Harry asked, placing an arm around Nathan’s shoulders.

Nathan smiled at his godfather. “I’m fine, Uncle Harry.”

Harry stared at him for a while. “That’s good to hear,” Harry finally said, holding him closer for a brief moment. “Now, I hope you’re ready to have some fun.”

His smile was wider now. “Of course I am. Are the twins here already?”

Harry finally smiled. “Yes, they are. You will want to be careful with their candy if you don’t want parts of your body transfigured for a while,” his godfather warned, winking.

Nathan smirked. “I’ll be careful with the candy, just don’t tell what you’ve just told me to my mother,” he said, and stepped out of Harry’s embrace.

“I never said anything to Ron, either,” Harry added, feigning innocence. Nathan smirked again.

On his way to where the children were, he didn’t escape other hugs; the Weasleys were very corporeal in their greeting. The last to hug him were Fred and George. “Ah, our new preferential customer,” one of them said. “How did the fireworks go?” the other one asked.

Nathan looked around and saw his mother still engaged in conversation with Ms. Weasley on the other side of the room. “They worked fine,” he answered in a low voice.

“Hi, Nathan,” a sweet voice greeted from behind him.

He turned and met the eyes of the grinning girl. “Hi, Lily,” he greeted back.

“I was waiting for you,” she told him, and grabbed his hand, pulling him to sit beside her on the couch.

Nathan raised an eyebrow in askance. He’d known Lily since, well, forever, but they didn’t share a friendship. Why was she waiting for him?

“How is Hogwarts?” she asked, curious. “Tell me all about it.”

“All about it? There’s a lot to tell…” He tried to think what to say first. “Well,” he started, “there are the Houses and the classes.”

Her impatience didn’t allow him more time to articulate. “You’re in Gryffindor, right? What is it like?” 

“It’s better than Slytherin.” Nathan didn’t know what to make of her questions. It was difficult to explain Hogwarts to someone who had never experienced being a student there. “If you want to know about Hogwarts, you should read _Hogwarts, a History_.”

Their attention was taken from each other when one of the twins, who seemed to be listening their conversation, said, “No, not you, too! Hermione!” he called, and when his mother looked their way, the twin added, “Why did you have to give him the-book-that-shall-not-be-named? Why?” 

Nathan was startled when the other twin grabbed him by his upper arms. “Don’t let the books consume you, boy. Be strong! I know you can do it!” he said dramatically. 

Nathan relaxed when he heard the laughter of those around them, and especially when his mother said, “Leave him alone, Fred! Go pester Ron!”

“Okay, but we’ll have a long talk later,” he said, looking pointedly at Nathan. “This must stop now, you’re still young.” And leaning in to get closer, he added, “And we all know your real vocation to the arts of mischief.” Fred winked, smiling.

Nathan smiled back.

The night progressed and more people arrived. The house was full of joy and happiness, there was music playing on the Wireless mixed with the sound of laughter and animated conversation. Nathan had laughed at Ron and Hermione, whom he lured into eating the enchanted candy. Hermione had laughed with Nathan from the simple joy of finally seeing her son truly happy again.

“It’s good to see him laughing so openly,” Remus commented, approaching her. “And you, too.” Hermione was still grinning as he smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re working things out for him,” he added.

“He’s having a good time. I’m happy Harry insisted on us accepting his invitation,” she answered. 

“You should change your hair to orange more often, Hermione; it lights up your eyes.” Tonks joined them, placing her arms around her husband. “Molly asked-” Tonks started to say, when an amplified voice invaded the room.

“Dinner is ready.”

“… to tell you the dinner is ready,” Tonks completed nonetheless.

The adjoining room had an immense table covered with food that filled the air with its scent, stimulating the appetite. There was room for everyone, and dinner didn’t inhibit the good conversation. They enjoyed the time and the good food, and long after dessert had been served, there was still movement in the house.

Hermione yawned for the third time and decided to call it a night. “Good night. It’s very late, and I’m sure the kids will be up very early in the morning to open their gifts.” Murmurs and nods of agreement followed that statement. 

She stood from the armchair and moved to where the kids were sleeping on the couches. She was about to wake her son, but watching the rise and fall of Nathan’s chest, she changed her mind and withdrew her wand to levitate him upstairs. Nathan was so worn out from the busy day that the only acknowledgement he showed was a mumbled protest when she placed him on his bed. 

The night went by and Christmas morning arrived. Nathan was wakened by Sirius Potter and his excitement over something. Nathan, with his mind still clouded from sleep, tried to figure out what was all the excitement about, and remembered it was Christmas morning; it was gift time. He sat up in bed and looked around the room. Sirius was at the foot of his bed, opening a package and showing its content to Lily. “It’s… what is it, Lily?”

“The card says it’s a remote control. Something Muggle, I’m sure, coming from Grandfather…” she answered.

“It’s used to turn on and off the television. It also changes the channel and controls the sound volume,” Nathan said, startling the brother and sister who had woken him up. 

“Merry Christmas, Nathan,” Lily offered, smiling.

“There is a pile of gifts for you,” Sirius pointed out. “Let’s see what you got!”

Nathan left the bed and walked to its foot, where the packages were. He took a flat but big one first. 

“Grandmother’s sweater,” Sirius said, giving little attention to the red knitted jumper with a detailed lion on its chest. “Here, open this one,” he offered a cubic box, then.

Nathan took it, disentangled the bold and lifted the lid. He peered inside, and so did Sirius. “What is it?” the younger boy asked.

“A set of fireworks,” Nathan answered. “It must be from your uncles.” He took the card and confirmed just that.

He continued opening the packages and was always very happy when it turned out to be a book, much to the Potters’ amazement. 

The next package he opened was another book, the fourth, this time a Quidditch one. He didn’t need to read the card to know who it was from: Uncle Ron.

There was only one box left. It was rectangular, around two inches high. Nathan opened its lid and took the strange necklace in his hands, watching it curiously. Nathan unfolded the letter he found in the same box.

_**Dear Nathan,** _

_**This necklace is an amulet with great protective powers. To activate it, you must hang it around your neck, making sure the round glass containing the liquid touches your chest.** _

_**Wear it at all times, and I’ll be with you when you most need me. It’s my gift of protection.** _

_**Happy Christmas,  
Your father** _

Nathan read the signature and paled. _My father?_ he thought, incredulous. _My father_. He read again. _My father sent me a gift?_

“What a beautiful necklace!” Lily exclaimed, calling the attention of the others to his gift… and him. “Who’s this from?” she asked innocently, having no idea what it meant to him.

“It’s…” he hesitated. He didn’t know how to say it... It sounded so weird even in his head. “It’s from my father,” he finally said, his voice showing the shock he felt.

He took the necklace and settled it around his neck, as instructed. When the glass holding the enchanted potion met the flesh of his chest, it glowed a bright gold, making Lily take a step back. Its glow faded out, and the liquid within it turned a vivid orange. Nathan grinned.

“Wow!” Sirius exclaimed. “What is it for?”

“It’s a gift of protection,” Nathan answered, grinning even more.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus sat by a wooden table, sipping his morning coffee, when the coin-like glass object resting next to his plate of toast glowed gold. Nathan was activating it; his son was wearing the necklace. He looked fixedly at the amulet, watching the golden light fade. It wasn’t long after the shine vanished that he observed the once colorless liquid acquire a vivid orange color: his son was very happy. He released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was Christmas. I hope you liked it! :0) 
> 
> I have some people to thank. Besides the extraordinary SnarkyRoxy, I have a new beta. Welcome on board, Poultrygeist! :0) Also, Draco’s letter was much improved by Lilian_Cho – my Draco consultant. *lol* And finally, my HP friends: Clau, Surviana, and BastetAzazis, who suffer through my whines about the chapters. I love you!
> 
> Enough sentimentality... If you liked the chapter, let me know on your review! Love them! :0) 
> 
> **Coming next…** Hermione wants to know what Severus is up to, and Harry intervenes on Nathan’s education.


	19. Reactions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione wants to know what Severus is up to, and Harry intervenes with Nathan’s education.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READERS FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy and Poultrygeist – thank you very much!

Hermione joined the others helping Molly in the kitchen. Christmas breakfast was always a lot of work, even with Dobby trying to make everything by himself. Nevertheless, soon the food was spread across the large dinning table, and the seats were filled one by one as the house woke up. 

Harry called to the kids from the bottom of the stairs. 

“Of course they’re awake. They must be too engrossed in their gifts to remember breakfast,” Harry said, rejoining the others. It didn’t take long after Harry sat at the table for the children to arrive in the dining room. By then, conversation filled the room and the Christmas meal took its typical joy. 

At length, someone brought the subject of gifts up. Sirius was animatedly discoursing about his list of gifts, and when it ended, he said, “Nathan got the coolest necklace!”

“Is that it?” Harry asked, turning his attention to his godson. “Can we see it?” he asked, smiling.

Nathan seemed unwilling to comply, but slowly pulled at its chain, bringing the round-shaped glass outside his shirt.

“It’s very beautiful, Nathan. Who’s it from?” Harry asked then.

Nathan took the now purple-filled glass in his hand protectively. He opened his mouth to say something, but he never managed to articulate anything; Lily was faster. “It’s from his father,” she said, preparing to bite her toast until the reactions that followed her revelation made her lower it back to the plate. 

The chatter diminished instantaneously and died altogether the following moment, leaving only an utter silence in the room. Eyes darted from Nathan to Hermione and stayed there. She could see shock, curiosity, confusion and sympathy, all directed at her, all at that same instant; she was as shocked, curious and confused as them. _Severus sent Nathan a gift?_ She blinked longer than usual, turning her head to focus her eyes on Nathan; their eyes met when he looked her way.

“Is it possible, Hermione?” Harry asked, breaking the silence. 

Hermione didn’t register his inquiry. She was looking at Nathan’s right hand gripping the pendant and holding it close to his heart. _Why did he send him a gift?_ She knew better than to believe it was for the joy of sending his son a Christmas gift. No, there was more to it. _What is he playing at?_

“Hermione,” Harry called again.

She blinked and focused on him. 

“Is it possible?” Harry insisted.

Harry’s green eyes were unreadable, cold even, and it made her uneasy. Hermione averted her eyes from his, only to find others on her. “Yes,” she answered, and it was as if she had given a sign for them to start talking again, and all at the same time.

Her mind was growing even more confused with their questions and babbling, adding to her own internal questions and babbling. Hermione rose abruptly from her seat, not willing to take it anymore. She bypassed the table, and grabbed Nathan by one arm, making him rise from his seat, too. “Enough!” she growled, and without further word, she dragged Nathan into the library and closed the door behind them.

Hermione’s word wasn’t enough to bring silence to the occupants of the breakfast table, nor was the sound of the library door closing with some force. What finally brought order to the room was a single word from Harry: “Silence!”

“I know this is a surprise for us all, but you already sent Hermione away,” he said next.

“Dad, what did I say wrong?” Lily asked, still a little startled with the consequences of her words.

“Nothing, sweetheart. You said nothing wrong.”

“Then why you were so silent, as if I had said something wrong?” she asked, now more confused than fearful. “And why did Aunt Hermione take Nathan away?”

“We are worried about Nathan’s necklace,” Harry answered.

“But why, if it’s a gift from his father?” she insisted.

Harry’s eyes went colder. Ginny, seeming to realize that, took over answering her daughter’s questions. “Have you ever seen Nathan with his father?” Ginny asked.

The girl appeared to be searching in her memory. “No,” she answered at length.

“That’s because we don’t know him,” Ginny completed her reasoning.

“Not even Nathan?” Sirius asked then.

Ginny turned her attention to him. “Not even Nathan.”

“That’s sad,” Lily observed, lowering her head to look at her hands on her lap.

Another silence followed.

“Do you know something we don’t?” Ron asked Harry. “You’re Nathan’s godfather; didn’t she ever tell you who he is?”

Harry brushed his hair back. “No, she didn’t,” he answered. “I didn’t even know she kept in touch with whoever he is.”

“What if the man only found them after Nathan went to Hogwarts?” Arthur pointed out. “They lived in the Muggle world until then.”

“Dad has a point,” agreed Fred. “She could have abandoned the Wizarding world in search of protection.”

“She never explained why she didn’t take that position at the Ministry after the war,” George added, nodding.

“I’ve offered protection,” Harry said, shaking his head in denial. “She knew it was safe to stay. She chose the Muggle world for another reason.” He was frowning in annoyance with the repeated suppositions. “And we’ve discussed this already.” 

“If what you’re saying is right, if she kept in touch with the man, then why did he decide to show up only now?” Ron asked. “Who is this man?”

“I don’t think she planned any of this,” Remus intervened. “She didn’t know Nathan’s father would send him the necklace.”

Harry looked at him suspiciously. The way the werewolf had said that made Harry believe Remus knew more than he was letting on. Remus caught his eyes on him and didn’t say or do anything that betrayed or denied Harry’s suspicions – which in itself was peculiar. 

“Has something happen at Hogwarts lately?” Harry asked the Defense professor. “Something involving Nathan or Hermione?”

Harry continued to study Remus, who took some time before replying, “Nathan and Devon Malfoy have been bickering at each other.”

“Why?” Harry insisted.

“Devon found out Nathan doesn’t know his father, and he’s been taunting him ever since,” Remus clarified.

“And let me guess,” Harry said in a tone of bitter irony, “Snape didn’t do anything to stop Malfoy.”

“It’s not that simple, we can’t watch the boys all the time,” Remus explained, visibly trying to defend the Slytherin.

“I’ve warned him,” Harry said, ignoring Remus explanation. “He can’t treat Nathan like he treated me. I won’t allow that, and he’s been warned.”

“This is not about Snape, Harry,” Ginny interrupted her husband. “This is about Nathan’s father.”

Harry rose from the table. “I’ll find out what is going on, now.” And with that, he went to the library, knocking hard on the door.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione leaned back, resting her head on the old wooden door of the library and sighed, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she saw Nathan studying her, looking confused. She withdrew her wand and placed some silencing wards about the room. 

“Let me see the necklace,” she demanded.

“No,” Nathan denied.

Hermione sighed again. _Calm down_ , she thought. “I’m not taking it from you. I just want to examine it,” she assured him.

Nathan closed his hand protectively over the pendant again. “What do you want to look for?”

“Have you even thought there could be something to harm you in it?” she pointed out.

“It’s a gift of protection,” he declared, lifting his chin in defiance. 

“How do you know that? How do you know it’s from your father, and not from someone pretending to be your father?” She was starting to lose the little control she’d recovered. “There are people who would want to harm you, people who lost a great deal at the end of the war, with Voldemort’s defeat. What if someone sent you a jinxed amulet? You’re too young to understand...”

“Mum.”

“…what happened during the war and the fact that there are people…”

“Mum.”

“…who hate me and Harry and Ron, and you can’t recognize Dark magic-”

“Mum!” she heard her son scream, effectively interrupting her. “It’s a gift of protection. It was in the letter my father sent me, and he’s not a criminal or anything. He fought by your side in that war.”

“How can you be so sure?” she asked, taken aback by his apparent knowledge of his father’s allegiances. 

“Dumbledore told me.” 

_Dumbledore?_ Her eyes widened. “How can Dumbledore-” She snapped her mouth shut before she said anything else. “He was already a portrait when you were born, Nathan. What can he possibly know about it? Besides,” she continued, “I’m not saying that your father would send you a jinxed gift, just that it could be from someone else pretending to be your father. Now, let me see the necklace.”

He hesitated still. Hermione knew he could see her point by the look in his eyes. He finally dropped his hand from the pendant and she could see the oval glass vial filled with a strong blue liquid – _a potion_ , she realized. _Definitely from Severus_ , she concluded in her thoughts. _What is going through his mind? What does he want with it?_ She couldn’t find a plausible reason for Severus’ actions.

“Let me read the letter,” she asked then. 

Nathan reached for his pocket and took a piece of parchment from it, but didn’t give it to her.

“It’s really hard to read when it’s folded in your hand,” she pointed out, annoyed.

Nathan unfolded the letter but didn’t attempt to hand it over to her. He held it open, with the inscriptions turned to her, so she could read from his hands. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air, asking the Gods for more patience. “This is ridiculous! I’ll not burn it or tear the letter to pieces, Nathan!” 

He flinched at her tone. She closed her eyes; that was not what she’d intended. Hermione went to an armchair, taking a seat. “Come over here,” she bid Nathan in a much calmer tone. He slowly complied, having the letter refolded in his hand. She gestured for him to sit on her lap, and when he did, she encircled him in a half hug, pulling him to her.

“I understand the importance of this gift for you, I do,” she made it clear, running her fingers on his fine hair. “But I need to know if it’s legitimate; if this is really a gift from your father. I won’t lie to you,” she added, “and you know that already.”

She waited for a sign that he agreed, and when he nodded lightly, she said, “Now, let’s read that letter together,” and rested her head on his shoulder. He unfolded the parchment again, and she read it. 

_Wear it at all times, and I’ll be with you when you most need me. It’s my gift of protection_ , she replayed mentally. A shiver ran through her spine. Severus wanted to protect Nathan, _in a very Slytherin way_ , she considered, but that warmed her heart nonetheless. 

“It’s true, isn’t it? My father sent me a gift,” Nathan asked, searching her face for her reaction to the letter uncertainly.

She smiled at him. “Yes, he did.”

A wide grin filled his face. She hugged him tighter and he leaned into her embrace, resting his head on her shoulder, until a rather hard knock on the door broke the moment.

“Hermione,” they heard coming from the other side. “I know this is a selective silencing ward and that you can hear me. Open the door so we can talk.” It was Harry. “Only you and me, if you prefer,” he added as an after thought.

“Mum,” Nathan said, looking back at her after being startled by Harry’s knock. “Uncle Harry will want to see my necklace, too, won’t he? Will I have to show them all?”

“I’m not sure, Nathan,” she answered, “but I’m afraid so. Let me open the door for him, and we’ll find out.”

She moved under her son’s weight, and when he stood from her lap and she rose as well. Fixing her wand, she brought down some of her wards and opened the door, allowing Harry to enter the library. 

“Why did you leave the table?” Harry asked her. 

He now looked fixedly at Nathan, at his necklace. Nathan clutched it protectively once more. 

“Go finish your breakfast,” Hermione told her son.

“I want to stay,” Nathan answered.

“Do as your mother says, Nathan,” Harry pressed.

Nathan looked from Harry to Hermione, and after she smiled at him, nodding, he left the library. The door closed behind him and Harry raised the wards this time.

“Tell me, Hermione. Who sent the necklace?”

“His father,” she answered tersely. 

Harry stared at her. “And who would that be?”

“I’m not telling you, Harry. Please, don’t insist,” she asked.

“No, Hermione. I won’t let go this time around. When it was only about you… I knew you could handle whoever attempted to harm you, but now it concerns Nathan, too. I won’t just sit and watch while he might be in danger just because you won’t tell me a name from some man you had something with more than ten years ago. I won’t,” he said firmly.

Hermione looked at the intensity of Harry’s green eyes as they flickered in hers, unwavering. “There is nothing to be worried about,” she assured. “That’s all you need to know. Let’s go back to breakfast,” she suggested and made for the door, but it didn’t open for her. She turned to him, annoyed. “Open the door, Harry.”

Harry, taking a seat on a nearby armchair, said, “Take a seat, Hermione.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you again. Open the door,” she demanded, glaring at him.

He didn’t shy under her glare. “Take a seat,” he repeated simply.

She strode back to sit in an armchair facing his. “There’s nothing to worry about, Harry,” she repeated in exasperation. “It’s only a necklace enchanted for protection. If I needed your help in dealing with this, I would have asked.”

“Why would he need protection from his unknown father, a man who never cared to show up in all these years?” Harry asked.

“Harry, please…” she begged.

“Hermione, I’m his godfather, I love him as if he was my son, and I love you as a sister. I respected your secret for all these years, satisfied with the thought that you wanted to keep both of you away from whoever this man is, for reasons I could only imagine. But now, he enters your life through that necklace, out of nowhere, as if it was the most natural thing to do,” Harry pointed out, “and you want me to believe there is nothing wrong with it? I won’t buy that,” he completed, shaking his head and reclining back on the chair.

Hermione closed her eyes. She would have to reveal at least some of her guarded secrets, she knew that. Harry had asked before; they had argued hotly about her refusals, but he hadn’t insisted as much as he was doing now; and she knew he wouldn’t back off after that necklace, and she understood his worry. She shook her head, lamenting Severus’ Slytherin approach, and she would let him know as much, after she was through with damage control here.

She opened her eyes to catch Harry still watching her, resolved. “He couldn’t have looked for Nathan before, because he didn’t know of his existence,” she revealed softly.

Harry’s demeanor softened a little, but not intentionally. “Why?”

“I can’t tell you that, only that it was my choice alone,” she answered.

“Why did you tell him now, or recently, or whenever you told him, then?” Harry asked, confused with his wording due to his ignorance of the facts.

“I didn’t,” Hermione stated, “but I’m glad he knows.” She lowered her head to look at her clasped hands. “I should have told him years ago,” she continued in a low voice. “It’s been hard for him to accept it, just as hard as for me to deal with the consequences of what I did, but the worst is what it’s doing to Nathan.” She looked up again, meeting his gaze. “I messed up, Harry, and fixing it doesn’t depend solely on me anymore.”

“I could help,” he offered, some of the ice gone from his voice.

Hermione shook her head in denial, leaving the armchair. “I know you want to, but no one can,” she said, facing the bookshelves. “It’s his choice; it’s the one decision I can’t take from him.” She caressed the leather of the tomes, trying to regain emotional control in their silence, when a hand on her shoulder broke her concentration.

“I don’t like to see you distressed like this,” Harry said, squeezing her shoulder in support.

“I did what I thought was best for both of them,” she confessed. 

“I believe you,” Harry said softly, using his free hand to bring her head to his shoulder gently. 

The library fell on a contemplative silence.

“I can still help with Nathan. I’ve heard his having trouble with Malfoy,” Harry offered. 

Her mouth curved in a ghost of a smile, while she stepped away from Harry’s embrace. “That has been dealt with,” she told him. “Remus is taking care of that as his Head of House.”

“But is Snape dealing with Malfoy?” Harry said. “I think the old bat needs some reminding.”

Hermione sobered again. “Harry, don’t interfere.”

“I won’t do anything you wouldn’t approve of,” he assured her, and lifted his wand to bring down the wards. “Let’s finish breakfast, if there’s anything left for us,” he said, gesturing for her to precede him back into the hall.

Hermione didn’t say anything else, although she didn’t like Harry’s answer to her request him to not interfere at Hogwarts. She didn’t want to raise suspicions towards Severus, nor did she want to leave Nathan alone with all those sure-to-be-curious Weasleys.

~o0oOo0o~

“Good morning, Miss Granger,” Severus greeted, without taking his eyes from the root he was chopping. He has been expecting her at any time now; he even thought she would have come the night before, her self-restraint surprising him. 

When she didn’t answer his greeting and just stood on the threshold of the laboratory, he finally looked at her. No, the sight that met him wasn’t one of sheer happiness, as he had expected it to be. 

“What were you thinking?” she said. “Do you know how many questions I had to answer? Did you even _think_ on the repercussion your little gift would have?”

Yes, he had. He would have means to know his son’s feelings and prevent him from withdrawing into himself. If Nathan had questioned her on anything, Severus knew she would be smart enough to answer the questions without great consequences to the secrecy of his identity. It was not a high price to pay for his watchful eyes on the boy after all. 

“I’m sure you had great answers for all of his questions; you always have,” he said, amused by her distress.

Hermione strode into the room and stopped in front of him, across the workbench he was using. She placed one hand on each side of the cutting board, effectively taking his attention from the roots. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. She was enraged.

“You think it’s amusing, don’t you?” she spat. “Well, it’s not! The Weasleys were intrigued; I thought Harry was going to hex me if I didn’t tell him your name!”

 _Weasleys? Potter?_ Severus didn’t think they would know of the necklace. Where did he go wrong? Where did his plan fail? 

“You never thought of that, did you? You never thought they would find out,” she stated, as if listening to his musings. 

“Why would they care? They have nothing to do with it!” he answered, annoyed. “If a father decides to send his son a gift, it’s not anyone’s business.”

Hermione was shaking her head. “I’m not complaining. Believe me, I was very surprised by your gift, pleasantly so. What I can’t agree is with the way you’re going about this.” 

“I’m not looking for your approval, either, Granger,” he made certain to let her know. “I don’t care if you agree or not.”

“Why are you doing this? Why do you show you care when you’re obviously doing your best to say you don’t?” she accused. “If you don’t want to be part of our lives… I really don’t get you.”

“I’ll never be part of your lives, Granger; I told you from the beginning,” he clarified. “Not in the way you expect me to.”

“Then why did you interfere?” Her tone wasn’t accusing, but a lament. “I’ve asked you to tell him properly; to sit, the three of us, and talk. What you’re doing… The way you’re approaching him… He’ll feel betrayed when he finally finds out.”

“That’s not my problem, Granger. Your mess, your secrets,” he said. “I’m only doing my job.”

“And what is that? To make him hate his father the moment he finds out it’s you? To make him suffer-”

“This way is better!” he interrupted her, his voice louder and stronger. “If hating me will guard him, then that’s how it will be! I’m trying to keep an eye on him, Granger – to protect him, and that includes from me.”

He looked at her staring at him after his outburst, and she seemed tired. Why did she have to insist that he revealed himself? He has already decided he wouldn’t ignore Nathan’s existence, only that he wouldn’t be the boy’s father in all aspects of the role. Wasn’t that enough?

“I’ll give you one week after the new term starts,” she said. “If you care for him, and I know you do, we’ll sit as a family and we’ll tell him you’re his father.”

He narrowed his eyes, placing his hands on the workbench for support as he invaded her personal space threateningly. “Do you think you can give me a deadline? You, who kept him a secret from me for eleven years? That conversation will never happen, Ganger, let alone within your stupid deadline!” he growled.

Her reaction to his indignation unsettled him. All she did was lower her head to look at the workbench, as if his words were being said in his lecture tone. 

“You don’t need to get all defensive, Severus. This is not a deadline I’m setting,” she said, and lifting her eyes from the workbench to meet his again, she added, “You set it when you sent him a mysterious gift for Christmas.” She seemed resigned.

“Let’s do it the right way, Severus. Let’s tell him before he finds out,” she asked again. 

“He won’t find out, unless you tell him,” Severus said.

“I never thought that you, of all people, were prone to delusions.” Her eyes burned into his at this closeness. “He knows more than I thought he knew. He didn’t even question if the necklace was meant to harm him. He knows his father was an Order member, Severus, and when he connects the potion in his new necklace to the only Potions Master in the Order; when he looks into your eyes the way I’m doing right now and sees his own…”

He averted his eyes, and didn’t see Hermione lower hers to the workbench.

“When he examines your hands,” she continued, and to his shock, she reached to cover his left hand with her right one, tracing the knuckles ever so lightly, “and sees a match to his own.”

He straightened himself, pulling his hand away from the workbench and from under hers. Severus noticed that her eyes remained on it while his hand moved, even now that it hung at his side. He crossed his arms then, uncomfortable. Severus hoped he had covered any sign of surprise faster than she had raised her eyes to meet his. 

She sighed heavily. “Just think about it; that’s all I’m asking, Severus.” And she was gone before he could consider the implications of all she'd said and done.

Severus scowled at the door. He unfolded his arms, holding the hand she had touched palm down; he stared at it, frowning. _Prone to delusions_ , he replayed her words in his mind, tracing his own knuckles. _Who’s deluding oneself?_ He squeezed his hand and dropped it, as if he could hurt it with his contempt.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan sat at the table, sipping orange juice and distracting himself with the entertainment section of the Muggle newspaper. His mother sat across from him, also having breakfast. It’s been almost a week since Christmas; it was almost the New Year. In another week, he would be back at Hogwarts for a new term of classes with his friends… _and foes_ , he added to himself.

Suddenly, Nathan realized that his mother’s side of the table was too quiet. He looked up and found Hermione staring unseeing at him, at his chest, at his necklace. He unceremoniously tucked it inside his shirt, glaring at her. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught her in the act; she seemed more distracted than ever these days. His move appeared to bring Hermione back from her trance, and she resumed eating the scrambled eggs that were sure to be cold by now. 

“Are you sure you want to come with me?” she questioned him, shoving her half-full plate away and placing her crossed arms on the table. “There won’t be much to do. I’ll just set the experiment and wait in my office until it’s complete, and as soon as it’s over, I can Apparate home and pick you up.”

“There’s nothing to do here, either,” Nathan pointed out. “If Jeremy wasn’t spending time with his grandparents, I could stay with him, but…” He shrugged. “And you know I like to see the experiments.”

“Just checking,” Hermione said, smiling, “and making sure I can say that I told you so when you start complaining you’re bored.”

“Why would I complain? I would be ten thousand times more bored here than at the university.”

“Is that so?” Hermione asked, amused. “What happened to ‘I’ll spend the whole holiday reading’?”

“I’ve read all the good books, including those you borrowed from your boyfriend,” Nathan defended himself, teasing her back.

“William is not my boyfriend,” Hermione answered, rolling her eyes. “But it was good you mentioned his books. We’re taking them with us; I’m returning them to him.”

“That’s why you asked so many times if I wanted to go; your boyfriend will be there!” Nathan kept teasing. “Mum has a boyfriend, mum has a boyfriend,” he chanted.

“I do not!” Hermione said. 

Nathan just laughed.

Not much later, Nathan assisted his mother in the laboratory of the Chemistry Department. Everything was almost done and he would soon have nothing to do for the two hours it took the experiment to complete. Of course he wouldn’t admit he was already bored to death in anticipation of those hours. 

“Ready?” Hermione asked. 

Nathan positioned himself to turn on the start button. “Ready.”

“On three, then; one, two, three,” Hermione counted, and Nathan pushed the button while she added the last reagent to the mix. “Great,” she said, “now we wait for the results.” Hermione smiled at him and turned to clean the workbench before they left the equipment for the time being.

“It takes two hours, right?” Nathan asked, letting his impatience slip into his voice.

“Bored, already? Can I say it, then?” she teased him, amused.

“Who said I’m bored?” he defied. “I just want to understand the whole process,” he lied.

Hermione took off her gloves and apron. “Yes, it takes two hours.” She fondled with his hair, and led him out of the laboratory, saying, “Let’s find something to save you from your boredom.”

They had just entered the hallway heading for Hermione’s office when a man called for her. 

“I didn’t expect to see you working between Christmas and New Year,” William commented, approaching them. 

“It’s just for a couple of hours before Nathan and I go out for the day. How was Christmas?”

“I had a great time with my sister and her husband,” William answered, and turning his attention to Nathan, said, “So you’re the famous Nathan. It’s nice to finally meet you.” The man offered his hand in courtesy. Nathan took it.

“This is Professor William Brice, Nathan,” Hermione filled in.

“Nice to meet you, Professor Brice,” Nathan greeted, still shaking the man’s hand.

“Call me William, or Will, like your mother does.” The man smiled. Nathan nodded. “Well, I just wanted to say hello,” he told Hermione. “I don’t want to keep you from enjoying your son’s company.”

Hermione smiled at William. “You’re not keeping me from anything. In fact, we were going to look for you. You just saved us the search.”

William’s smile broadened. “Looking for me? What would be the reason?”

“I wanted to return the books you lent me. They’re in my office.”

Hermione led the way while they talked about the books. Nathan was asked for opinions and was content when both adults seemed truly interested in his point of view. They reached the office and the conversation had changed to Hermione’s experiment, which led to other academic topics, then to other books. That made Nathan wonder what it would be like if his mother was to really date this man – or any professor, for that matter. 

Nathan didn’t remember well the last time Hermione had dated. It’s been a long time ago, and it hadn’t lasted long enough for his young brain to register many details at the time. While he attended the Muggle school, he’d seen many families like his own, with only a mother and kids, or, in some cases, a father and kids. Many of those parents had girlfriends or boyfriends, and some of them even married a second time, starting a new family. Why didn’t his mother do that? She was never married, at least not that he knew about. Why wouldn’t she want to marry, or even date anyone?

Nathan had heard stories of when Hermione had dated Uncle Ron, back when she was a student at Hogwarts. Besides him, Nathan knew she have had to had something with his father. Did they date? Did she love him? Did he love her? Why didn’t they marry? Why weren’t they a family? Nathan didn’t know. He couldn’t even begin to understand. 

The potion inside his pendant changed from a light green to a deep blue, showing the sadness that invaded his heart. By now, Nathan had realized what those color changes meant – his mood. Why did his father send him a mood necklace telling him it was for protection? That, he hadn’t figured out yet. Nor what that liquid inside the necklace really was, although he thought it to be a potion, Nathan would only be sure when he has access to Hogwarts’ library again.

“Nathan,” his mother called.

He looked up, away from the pendant in his hand, meeting her eyes. Hermione looked worriedly from his eyes to the necklace and back again.

“We still have an hour here,” she told him. “Do you want to go outside? Or to the library, maybe?” she asked, still looking a little worried.

“I can wait here,” Nathan answered, letting go of the pendant. “I can keep trying to understand what these trans-reactions are.” He tried to force a smile.

“It’s my fault entirely, I’m sorry,” William admitted. “We shouldn’t be talking about work…”

Hermione looked to his necklace again and smiled. “Maybe medieval weapons would be a better topic,” she suggested.

Nathan followed her gaze, looking at pendant then, and saw its contents were back to that light shade of green it took on most of the time. “Would you prefer a sword or a dagger for a close combat weapon? I think daggers are better for their secrecy.” 

Pleasant conversation filled the hour they needed to wait; William ended up being good company. Soon, Hermione and Nathan were leaving the university to spend some time in Muggle London. They had plenty of places to visit before heading for the movies.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus sat in his office, staring at the coin-like vial sitting on his desk. Classes had resumed, and ever since, the color of its content had acquired shades he had never seen in it before. Reds of anger, browns of humiliation; Severus missed the light greens, the oranges, those unexpected pinks… In fact, Severus had been stricken to observe that most of the time many shades of blue filled the glass vial, replacing that soothing light green. It showed that his boy was much more guarded in his emotions now that he was back at Hogwarts than when he was only with his mother.

At least not even a glimpse of grey ever tainted the potion. If the blue turned into grey, he would have to act; he would have to save his boy from a deeper depression and sadness, or at least he convinced himself that was what he would be doing. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that, and he didn’t think it would. The time Nathan spent away from Hogwarts made him good. Even not knowing his son very well, all those detentions and this time he’d spent watching his moods worked in his favor. He was an observant man, after all, and he was sure he wouldn’t see any grey in it, _or yellow_ , he thought, amused. _No coward yellows for Gryffindors_.

Only when deep blue changed into greeny white did Severus turn his full attention to the essays; Nathan was asleep. That was his new routine now. Severus needed to be sure his son was peacefully sleeping before concentrating on anything else, and even then, he still checked his amulet for signs of any change. He’d never seen any significant or worrisome one, though; not until he’d looked up from the last essay he had to grade, and saw a swirl of graying yellow invade the peaceful greeny white. 

Severus was startled and on his feet in seconds. He didn’t even think before taking the amulet from his desk and activating it to locate Nathan, while exiting his office to the chilly corridor of Hogwarts’ dungeons. If his son was afraid and somber, he had to find him immediately! Severus remembered the boy’s little adventure into the Forbidden Forest months ago, and followed the locator spell faster, until it took him to the Entrance Hall. There, Severus stopped and frowned; the spell was leading him up the stairs instead of through the oak front doors.

Severus checked the potion in his amulet again; it still had that yellowish tone with a grey tinge to it. “What are you afraid of, if you’re inside the castle?” he murmured to the halls, climbing the stairs to where the spell pointed him. Only when he arrived just outside Gryffindor common room and it directed him to go inside did Severus question the veracity of the locator spell’s information. If Nathan was inside Gryffindor, why would he be afraid? Another check of his amulet and showed nothing had changed from his last inspection. 

The only signs that he was doing this against his better judgment were a sigh and the fact that he had his eyes closed when he delivered the teacher’s password to the Fat Lady. The common room was deserted at that time of the night; it was way past midnight, after all. But Severus had been almost sure he would find some commotion in there. The locator insisted he should climb the stairs he knew led to the dormitories, though. What was going on up there? He couldn’t hear any sound that would give him a clue, or any sound at all for that matter. _Silencing charms?_ he wondered. 

He was more worried than conscious of his actions now. Severus just wanted to find Nathan and protect him from whatever was causing him those feelings. The door to his son’s dormitory didn’t offer any resistance, and Severus only found sounds of sleeping boys inside. _Strange_. Until a whimper reached his ears, coming from one of the four-poster beds. 

Severus, wand at the ready, cautiously pulled the drapes to the side to find Nathan, and only Nathan. Although his boy was alone, Severus didn’t relax yet. Nathan was struggling with the covers, turning his head from side to side, grimacing and whimpering; he was having a nightmare. Severus entertained the thought of leaving the room, leaving his son to his nightmare, but his body wouldn’t move. 

Nathan mumbled something, breaking Severus’ musings. He mumbled some more, and now Severus thought he heard the words _spider_ and _back_ and _no_ a few times. _He’s dreaming of that night in the Forest_ , Severus realized. More mumbles, and he strained to listen and understand. Besides _spider_ and _away_ , Severus could make out the name of his son’s godfather – Harry – and, to his utter surprise, his own name – Snape. That made him stiffen, even more uncomfortable with the situation.

Severus knew the best thing to do was to wake him from the nightmare, but how would he do that without being caught in the act? He couldn’t wake him, but he knew who could. With the lightness of his graceful movements, he left the dormitory, crossed Gryffindor common room and exited through the hole guarded by the Fat Lady. He continued down the corridor, the flaring torches trying to keep up with his fast pace. He stopped abruptly and knocked at a wooden door. It was opened for him after some insistence. 

“You need to go to Gryffindor Tower,” Severus informed.

“Severus? What is going on?” Hermione asked, visibly startled.

“He’s having a nightmare,” Severus answered. “You need to wake him.”

Hermione frowned, seeming confused, which annoyed Severus.

“Leave your questions for another time. We don’t have all night,” he said, which effectively made Hermione act. She threw a coat over her sleeping garments and joined Severus in the chilly hallway. 

She kept quiet while following his billowing robed person. He didn’t say anything else besides the password to access the Tower. He could feel she was analyzing him, and knew he would have a lot of questions to answer after they were through here. Severus checked his amulet: grayish yellow. He indicated that she should precede him up the stairs to the dormitories.

He should have stayed down in the common room. Why did he follow her up stairs? He knew the answer. He wasn’t acting in his right mind, and by the time some sense of self-preservation invaded it, he was already inside the dormitory. He chose the darkest corner; Hermione was sitting on Nathan’s bed.

From where he stood, he could only see Hermione’s back as a delineated shadow. She was shushing the boy. “Wake up, honey. It’s only a dream. Shhh, it’s all right. It’s only a bad dream,” he heard her sooth the boy in the sweetest of voices. “I’m right here with you. No one can harm you.”

“Mum,” he heard Nathan’s high acknowledgement. The boy moved to hug her. “The spiders were eating me.”

“Shhh,” Hermione shushed again, and Severus could hear the sound of her hands patting his son’s back, comforting. “It’s over. There are no spiders here, it was only a bad dream,” she assured.

The sound of Nathan’s desperation wasn’t only heard by him. A head popped out of another four-poster bed. “Who’s there?” asked the sleepy voice.

“It’s only me, Andy; Nathan’s Mum. Go back to sleep.”

“What’s going on?” Andy insisted. 

“Nothing, just go back to sleep before we wake the others,” she whispered.

Severus saw the head disappear back inside the protection of the drapes. Nathan didn’t seem that reassured, though. “Uncle Harry couldn’t find me. Professor Snape was here, but he didn’t do anything, and then he was gone. The spiders were eating me-”

“Calm down, honey. You were dreaming. Professor Snape wouldn’t leave you there, would he? It was only a bad dream, and it’s over,” she assured the boy some more. 

Silence filled the room. Severus could see the forms of their shadows entwined to each other. Could Nathan have felt his presence in the room, looming over him? No, he couldn’t have, could he?

“Why didn’t he wake me?” his son’s soft, sleepy voice asked, breaking the silence.

“Who?” Hermione asked back, caressing his back.

“My father,” the boy answered. “Why didn’t he wake me? I know he was here, only he was Professor Snape in my dream.”

Severus was as perplexed as he could see Hermione was. Nathan didn’t only sense his presence in the room, but the boy had also known it was his father; that he was his father. _Come on, Granger_ , he thought. _Say something to dismiss his suspicions_.

“Go back to sleep, Nathan. You’re very tired,” was all Hermione said, lowering Nathan back to the pillow and tugging the covers back up. Severus saw her bend over, and heard the kiss she placed on the boy’s forehead. She remained stooped, and he could barely make out the sound she was making; she was humming a lullaby.

Severus didn’t know where the warmth that invaded his chest came from. He shivered. Hermione hummed for a while longer, and only when she left the bed and closed the drapes did he dare move. She looked at him as if she’d forgotten he was there. He nodded towards the door. They left.

They walked in silence, lost in thoughts. Hermione’s deep intake of air called his attention. She spoke, “Your week is almost over, Severus, but we still have time.”

Severus didn’t want to hear that, to be reminded of that. He straightened his back, standing in all his threatening glory, but when he was prepared to deliver his snide reply, she spoke again, “I get it. Go back to your dungeon. I’m really tired and I know you’ll be looking for me during the week.” And her door closed in front of him.

~o0oOo0o~

Harry Potter was finally free from Ministry duties for an evening. Why did the criminals decide to act during holidays? Every year was the same. He signed a last report, sent a note to Ginny and left the Auror office. He had just enough time to catch dinner at Hogwarts.

Harry didn’t forget Nathan’s issue. He knew Hermione put too much trust in Snape for her own good; it’s been like this since the war times. If she thought he, Harry Potter, was going to stand back with his arms crossed while that old bat laughed at his godson, she didn’t know him at all. 

What intrigued him a little was Remus Lupin’s reaction to the whole necklace incident. Normally, Lupin wouldn’t jump in to defend anyone, even if he thought they were being harsh in their accusations. Lupin would stay quiet, watching without involvement. That day, at Christmas breakfast, the werewolf had jumped in to defend first Hermione, saying she didn’t know about the necklace, and then Snape, implying he was doing his best to look after Malfoy. 

Harry didn’t have the strength to think of anything else after the Floo trip. He was standing in front of Minerva’s table when she greeted him, surprised, “Mr. Potter? What brings you to Hogwarts? Is everything all right at the Ministry?”

“Everything is fine, Minerva. I’m here for a couple of visits, really. Nothing related to the Ministry,” he assured her. “How are you?”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she apologized. “I’m doing fine. The excitement of the students after a long holiday always results in more work for me, but everything is fine.” Minerva smiled at him. 

“Hello, sir,” Harry greeted the figure of Albus Dumbledore. 

“Hello, my boy,” the portrait twinkled. “How are Ginny and the kids?”

“They’re great,” Harry smiled at him. 

“Would you join me for dinner in the Great Hall?” Minerva invited.

“I thought you would never ask,” Harry told her. “It’s nice to see you, Professor Dumbledore,” he told the portrait with great sincerity.

Albus smiled. “It’s nice to see you, too, Harry. Send my best to the others.”

Harry nodded and left the circular room with Minerva.

“Who are you visiting, if you don’t mind me asking?” Minerva said.

“Lupin and Snape,” Harry answered, not supplying more information than was necessary.

“Snape?” Minerva asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Harry said simply. He knew Minerva wouldn’t be pleased with that answer, but he also knew she would intervene if she knew the reason of his visit. They were already in the Great Hall, so he felt it was safe to add, “We won’t destroy your school,” before taking the seat next to Remus Lupin.

Harry was getting all the attention. He was used to that by now, so the only eyes he really felt wasn’t even those of Minerva’s glare; it was those of the shadowy presence at her right – Snape. 

“Harry? What brings you to Hogwarts?” Lupin asked, making him avert his gaze from the Potions master. 

“I’m visiting,” Harry answered. “How are you, Remus?” he asked, smiling.

“I’m fine,” Lupin answered, suspicious. “Visiting with whom?”

“You, Minerva, Dumbledore, the house-elves’ food,” Harry listed, while serving himself potatoes, “Snape. Lot’s of things bring me to Hogwarts.”

“Snape?” Lupin asked, like Harry knew he would.

“Yes, him too,” Harry said, dismissively. “Can you pass me the juice?”

Lupin took the jug and placed it closer to Harry. “What do you want with Severus, Harry?” Lupin asked looking grave.

“Let’s leave that between me and him,” Harry answered. “We have more interesting things to talk about, like what you know about Nathan’s father, for instance.” He gave Lupin a side glance, accessing the werewolf’s reaction to the subject. Was that annoyance?

“Why do you insist that I know something about that?” Lupin said.

“Because you do,” Harry said simply. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have intervened in Hermione’s favor. I know you, and if you felt the need to interfere, then you know much more than you want us to think.”

“Harry, I just knew Hermione was unaware of the necklace, because I was the only one observant enough to see her shock at the news,” the Defense master assured him.

Harry narrowed his eyes, chewing on his food. Lupin had a point. Hermione seemed a bit shocked after seeing the necklace, but that wasn’t enough to dissuade him. Harry knew better than that, and decided to change tactics.

“I’m just concerned about Hermione and Nathan. She’s my best friend, he’s my godson, and I don’t want to be unprepared to deal with any pain this man can cause them,” Harry said. “I only want to help.”

“I know how big your heart is, Harry.” Lupin smiled at him. “But I think we need to trust Hermione on this. She wouldn’t do anything to harm Nathan. Look at the sacrifices she’s made for him,” Lupin pointed out. “And if you want to help, just be supportive,” he added, and turned to look Harry in the eyes, “no matter what.”

“You won’t tell me, will you?” Harry said with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll find out for myself, you know I will.”

Lupin sighed. “Just remember that Nathan is only a child and he’ll need you, as his godfather, if things go wrong.”

Harry looked startled at Lupin. “What are you going on about?”

“I’m just asking you to be careful,” the werewolf warned and went back to his dinner. 

Harry frowned at his plate. Lupin definitely knew and was trying to hide it from him. Was that another sign that his suspicions were right? Could that wonderful, smart, happy, intelligent boy be... No, nothing beautiful like Nathan could come from… No!

Harry finished what he could of his dinner. Snape was next in his agenda, and he would have to be prepared for that sharp tongue of his. Lost in his thoughts the way he was, Harry didn’t notice Nathan observing him from the Gryffindor table. 

Nathan was intrigued by the change in demeanor in both Uncle Harry and Professor Lupin. Their conversation seemed to have worried both wizards. Normally, Nathan wouldn’t take much notice, but now… He knew his godfather had been very intrigued by his necklace, by the identity of his father, since Christmas. The fact that he’d looked for Professor Lupin, who Nathan was aware knew his father, only made him more attentive to their conversation. 

_Did Uncle Harry find out?_ he thought. He didn’t know. At that moment, he caught Harry glancing at Professor Snape. _Snape!_ he thought, annoyed. _Why does it always come back to Snape!?_ Nathan lost his appetite. That wizard had even taken the part of his father in his dreams. That was disturbing!

Nathan tried to distract himself from Harry’s actions, which became impossible when he approached the table. “Hello, boys. Hello, Nathan,” Harry greeted. “How are you doing?”

Nathan forced a smile. “I’m doing fine, Uncle Harry. What brings you to Hogwarts?” he asked.

“I needed to speak with some teachers,” Harry said. “How are things with Malfoy?”

“He’s being quiet since the term started,” Nathan assured his godfather. They had talked about what was going on in the school during the school break, and Harry had been very aggravated with what Malfoy had been doing to him.

“I’m glad to hear that. Did Snape punish him?” Harry asked.

“I don’t think so, but who cares?” Nathan said.

“I do, Nathan,” Harry answered. “I’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Uncle Harry,” Nathan said, frowning. “I can take care of myself.”

The Potions master strode pass them at that moment, leaving the Great Hall. Harry followed the billowing robes with his eyes, and Nathan didn’t miss any move of either man.

“I know you can,” Harry agreed with Nathan’s last statement. “I still have one last visit to make. Don’t forget to write to me once in a while.” Harry patted Nathan on the shoulder and left the Great Hall.

Nathan was on his feet the moment Harry disappeared from the doorway. That conversation he wouldn’t miss a single word. He took his bag, dismissed his friends’ questions, and headed for the dungeons.

Just outside Professor Snape’s office, he could hear their voices. As Nathan predicted, Harry was talking with Professor Snape. He took out his wand and murmured, “ _Alohomora_.” The door opened silently. Crouched, he searched for shelter behind a table full of vials, probably samples from students to be graded. 

“I don’t take warnings from you, Potter. Now, leave my office before I decide to hex you out of here.”

“You can’t keep protecting your little Slytherins,” Harry told Snape. “You can’t treat Nathan the way you treated me.” 

Nathan had never seen his godfather so angry. Harry was red with rage, talking between gritted teeth. 

“Who do you think you are to tell me how to educate my students?” Professor Snape growled, rising from his chair. 

“And who do you think you are to treat Nathan with indifference?” Harry spat back, also on his feet.

“Who do you think you are to tell me how to treat Nathan?!” Snape growled lauder.

“I’m his godfather!” Harry growled back, louder still.

“And I’m his father!” Snape all but screamed.

Glass shattered at the back of the room. Nathan stood there, transfixed, staring wide-eyed at the man who’d made that last statement. “You,” he whispered. “All the time it was you.” He had tears on his eyes.

Severus was shocked, first with his confession to Potter, and next with Nathan’s presence in his office. He couldn’t even muster his blank mask to cover his shock. Nathan knew; it was over. Severus took a step closer to his son, but Nathan backed from him. Severus took another step towards him.

“Nathan,” he tried, but the boy backed away further, staring at him with wide eyes and a hurt expression. Finally, Nathan turned and fled, crying. 

Severus closed his eyes. This was not supposed to be happening. 

“So it’s true,” Harry said, coming back from his thoughts, perplexed with Snape’s revelation.

“Go find Hermione. Tell her there is no need for a deadline anymore,” was all Severus said before leaving his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, he knows. Yes, it was shocking. Yes, it’s a cliffie! *lol* 
> 
> I suppose I don’t even need to ask you to tell me what you thought about it all, right? You all know I love to hear from you. ;0)
> 
> Special thanks to GinW for all her input and incentive to the muse! :0) She’s my muse's guardian angel. *hugs*
> 
>  **Coming next…** Nathan’s reaction to the truth.


	20. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan knows his father identity and has now a lot to think about. But he’s not the only one with a lot in one’s mind…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER** : Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READERS FOR THIS CHAPTER** : SnarkyRoxy and GinW – thank you very much!

Remus Lupin followed the students out of the Great Hall, but those he was really following weren’t in his sight range. Severus left a while ago; Harry had been talking with his godson then. Harry left instants after that; Nathan had been finishing dinner with his friends. Nathan left as soon as Harry disappeared from view into the Entrance Hall. Remus knew where they were going and he left as well, following Slytherin students that went back to their common room in the dungeons of the castle.

Remus was certain that this meeting between Harry and Severus was bound to go wrong. They never managed to deal with themselves as civilized adult wizards. He just hoped they wouldn’t get violent with each other. They dueled once a year, and that was enough to keep their animosity at bay, but only because they didn’t meet often. This year, though… 

He had just turned the corner of the corridor where Severus’ office was when a boy rushed past him, running. 

“Nathan?” he asked rhetorically, knowing the running boy wouldn’t listen at this volume. Remus called then, “Nathan!” The Gryffindor kept running, ignoring him.

Remus turned, intending to reach Severus’ office and understand what was going on, but stopped in his tracks again. Severus was leaving, striding purposefully in the opposite direction from which Nathan had gone. Remus was worried now.

He closed the few steps left and entered the opened office. Harry stood there, eyes wild, frowning. _Harry, what have you done?_

“Harry?” Remus called, ensuring that Harry would acknowledge his presence in the room. “What happened here?”

Harry opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. “Snape-” he said, but stopped before saying anything else, as if short for words. After a moment and another open and close of his mouth, he continued, “I thought he was-” He choked on his words again. “But knowing for sure…” Harry trailed off, closing his eyes as if to clear the images and words from his mind, and when he finally opened them again, he focused on Remus for the first time since the werewolf had entered the room. “Snape is Nathan’s father,” Harry revealed, helplessness tainting his voice. “Snape!”

At that moment, Remus was aware of the catastrophic quality of what had happened there just before he had arrived. “Merlin,” he said, “Nathan heard you!”

“I didn’t see him. I was arguing with Snape, and…” Harry recounted, and he turned to the back of the room, pointing in disbelief to where Remus could see a workbench filled with vials, some toppled down but still closed, others lying on the floor, shattered. “And he was hiding over there, but I didn’t see him until the vials broke, right after Snape said it.” Harry looked startled to Remus. “We have to find him! He was crying when he fled. Snape went after him,” Harry told Remus. “We have to find him first! I won’t let Snape get to him!”

“Calm down, Harry. Severus didn’t go after Nathan,” Remus assured. “They went opposite ways.” Remus was finding it hard to absorb everything he was being told. _Severus told Harry?_ Shocking, indeed. “What did Severus do when he found Nathan in the room? Did he say anything?”

“He seemed surprised, but you never know what Snape is really feeling or thinking. He said something about Hermione and a deadline, and then he left. I thought he had gone after Nathan,” Harry said. “Are you sure he didn’t?” he asked Remus. “For a moment I thought he was trying to reach out for Nathan.”

“They went opposite ways,” Remus assured once more. “We need to inform Hermione.”

“I’m going after Nathan,” Harry said.

“Stay out of this, Harry. You’ve done enough already,” Remus warned.

“He’s my godson, Remus. I can’t leave him now, when he needs me the most,” Harry said, determined. “Which way?” he asked.

“Harry, Hermione will be very angry when she finds out you were sticking your nose where you shouldn’t.”

“Which way, Remus?” he repeated, a hard look of determination in his eyes.

“The Entrance Hall,” Remus finally answered, resigned. “But I really think you should look for Hermione first,” he tried again, but Harry was already leaving. “Or I could,” he muttered to himself and left Snape’s office, too.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus strode into his living room and banged the door behind him. The first object that caught his eyes, the Floo powder jar, was the first to fly across the room, shattering against the far bookshelf, spreading the fine powder everywhere.

 _This was not supposed to happen, this was not supposed to happen_ , was the chant in his mind. How could he, Severus Snape, let himself be driven like that!? Those words should have never left his mouth; he should have never said them aloud. _He knows_.

Severus grimaced in anger with himself, shaking his head, fisting his hands and contorting his face in visible pain. A pain he hadn’t experienced in quite some time. One caused by no physical injury, but one connected to a part of him that he shouldn’t feel anymore: his heart. 

_He knows_. The little boy that had invaded his life like nothing and no one should be allowed to do. The young pair of fathomless black eyes that couldn’t let him forget the blood connection they shared, a connection he’d made to this forbidden boy, this undeserved joy. The son he didn’t want to see suffering for the father he unfortunately had, and that despite it all had the audacity to claim him – aloud.

Other objects flew from the mantelpiece, spreading across the stone floor, some also broken like the man throwing them. How could this have happened? How could he have done this to Nathan? Severus grabbed the mantelpiece, hanging his head down with his eyes closed. The look of disgust and pain in his boy’s face was haunting his mind; the whispered words of hurt, the tears, and those pleading eyes… Severus shouldn’t have let that happen. 

Severus’ eyes suddenly flared open, reflecting the flames below in his blind anger. _Potter_ , the name invaded his thoughts. Potter and that incredible gift to meddle where he wasn’t supposed to; the gift the infuriating man had to throw him off his limits. Potter was the one responsible. Potter had interfered and messed with his carefully held plan, which had never included Nathan’s awareness of the truth.

Nathan…

Severus closed his eyes again and reached for his pocket, taking the small glass vial that accompanied him since Christmas. Its liquid swirled in many colors of many shades. Severus pushed his lank black hair from his face with his free hand, while stepping away from the hearth, lowering himself into one of the armchairs that faced it. Reds, blues, greens, purples, greys, and yes, tinges of black revolved into the amulet in his hand – Nathan was very confused, probably in shock. _Of course he is_ , Severus thought. _How can he not be? He just found out that his most despised teacher is his long-lost father_.

Severus watched the myriad of colors as if hypnotized by them. He watched and frowned at every dark feeling he read in them, hoping that Hermione would reach Nathan soon and soothe him like she’d done with his nightmare. She won’t be long now, if she wasn’t in the castle already. His son needed comfort, and although Severus felt a barely controllable urge to go and find him, he knew he should leave it to the boy’s mother. 

The colors were getting darker in feeling. Severus stood and started pacing the room, his boots crushing pieces of glass and other materials in his walk in front of the hearth. Isn’t Hermione with Nathan right now? Why won’t the boy calm down, then? Severus paced and stared at the amulet in his hands. 

Until the potion flashed a strong shade of red and… lost its color.

Severus stopped his pacing and lowered the hand holding the vial. He closed his eyes, his shoulders losing some of their stature in a long sigh. Nathan wasn’t wearing his Christmas gift anymore; he’d taken the necklace off.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan ran. He ran as fast as he could, trying to get away from there, away from that mess. He wasn’t sure to where he was going, only that he had to go. He had to get away. It didn’t help the fact the he could barely see the corridors and stairs ahead of him, tears blurring his vision. Nathan felt unbalanced at times, but never connected it to the people he was colliding in his eagerness to be as far away as possible from the man – his father.

 _Professor Snape is my father_. He stopped running, short of air, a loud sob escaping him in his helplessness. _Professor Snape is my father_. He didn’t want to think of that, so he started to run again, as if he could run from himself. 

Nathan didn’t get much farther in this second desperate flight; he was tired. His legs had taken him all the away up to the third floor. He cleared his eyes in the sleeves of his robes, breathing hard among his sobs. He looked around. He knew he recognized the room; he’d been there before. He felt he was far enough. 

Nathan’s legs finally gave up, and he curled himself between the cold stone wall and one of the bases of a heavy suit of armor. He hugged his knees and rocked slowly. _Professor Snape is my father_. It was so hard to believe. After all this time looking for his father, trying to find out who he was, and now he knew.

And it was Professor Snape.

Nathan sobbed again, burying his face into the comforting dark hole between his knees, resting his forehead on his folded arms. It was Professor Snape all along. He tried to take a deep breath to stop his running nose and bring some calm into himself. He gasped with the effort it took to conceal his tears. Nathan rubbed his swollen eyes with his damp sleeves, and opened his eyes to focus the floor between his curved legs.

And closed them hard in an attempt to hold back tears forming anew by the sight of the pendant hanging from his neck – his father’s Christmas gift; Professor Snape’s Christmas gift. It had meant so much for Nathan… And now that he knew who it was really from. That his steamed, cherished necklace, an object said to be meant for his protection. Snape’s protection? A potion that showed his mood; a potion brewed by his Potions master. _My father_. 

Nathan roared in frustration, gripping the pendant, angry with Snape, with his mother, with himself. He pulled so hard that the chain gave away, and Nathan looked at it for some time before letting his arm fall beside his numb body, resting his head back on the hard stone wall, and closed his eyes. Alone.

~o0oOo0o~

Remus was looking at the grounds through the window of his office when the door opened without any warning, startling him from his thoughts.

“Remus, I can’t find him. He’s not in Gryffindor Tower, nor at the library, and no one has seen him. The locator spells aren’t working, and you’ve got to help me!”

Remus looked at Harry, barely concealing the relief at seeing him back from his search without the boy. Not that he didn’t want Nathan to be found, he just wanted him to be found by his mother.

“Let’s wait for Hermione,” Remus said in means of an answer. “She’ll be here at any moment now.”

Harry looked Remus in the eyes, imposing. Remus held Harry’s eyes, determined and knowingly. Harry raised a hand to rub at his scarred forehead. “Remus, he needs-”

“Remus, where is he?” Hermione burst into the room, interrupting them, taking a while to notice the presence of another wizard in the room besides the Defense teacher. “Harry?” she asked, visibly surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Remus interfered before Harry could answer. “He was also there, Hermione,” he said pointedly.

Hermione took only a moment to confusingly absorb the information. _Harry was there?_ she repeated mentally in question. _Oh my God!_ Her eyes widened when she finally realized the meaning in Remus’ words: Harry had also found out. Her shock was slowly leaving her face. The wizards in the room kept silent, observing the myriad of emotions passing Hermione’s face, which settled to show her outrage. She looked sharply in Harry’s direction. “I’ve specifically asked _you_ not to interfere! I can’t believe you, Harry!” she accused her best friend, knowing him quite well enough to deduce some of what had happened that evening.

“Don’t come accusing me, Hermione,” Harry defended himself in a much lower, but still strong tone of voice. “It’s hardly my fault that you chose to hide that _Snape_ was Nathan’s father,” he added, showing his dislike for the man in his words. 

Hermione gasped in disbelief. “Yes, it’s your fault! I had a reason to hold that information, mister, but you had only your nosy need to interfere in other people’s business!”

“I’ve asked you, Harry,” she continued her fit of rage, pointing an accusing finger at her friend’s chest. “That should have been enough to tell you that this was no concern of yours. I was trying to avoid this, this…” she had no words to describe the situation, “but you can’t listen! You never listen!” Hermione ranted, emphasizing every word of her last accusation with a poke. 

Hermione was still very angry and close to Harry when he argued, “You should have told me.” He wanted to show anger with those words, but only managed disappointment. “ _Snape_ , Hermione. Nathan is… a Snape!” Harry was obviously disgusted.

Hermione made to retort hotly, but sensing Remus’ inquietude and remembering her son was somewhere in the castle, needing her, she gave up, closing her eyes and taking a deep, shaky breath. “This conversation is not over, Harry James Potter, but now is not the time. Nathan is who I’m worried about right now,” she said in a dangerous voice, glaring at the recipient of her warning note.

Harry fidgeted under her powerful glare until Hermione broke the eye contact and asked Remus, “Where is my son?”

“We don’t know yet. He passed by me, running. Harry was trying to find him with locator spells, but they failed to work. I didn’t want to leave before you arrived.”

“You don’t know where he is?” That worried her even more. “And the locator spells aren’t working?” she asked, some of her desperation returning now that her mind was focused on Nathan again. “Are you sure?”

“At least, none that I know of. There seems to be something or someone countering, blocking them. I don’t think Nathan knows how to raise wards against locator spells. Not all of them in the least,” Harry provided, apparently also focused again in the task of finding his godson. “I think we’ll have to find him the Muggle way. Maybe the ghosts can help.”

“Well thought, Harry,” Remus agreed. “I’ll summon them.”

She nodded once in acknowledgement, frowning. She didn’t think Nathan would know how to counter every single locator spell Harry – an Auror – knew. Hermione dueled on that a little longer, but finally changed her line of thought, concentrating on how to find Nathan without the spells, and that was when she remembered last weekend.

“I know of a way to find him,” she revealed, “but I’ll need Severus’ help.”

Harry made to protest, but nothing left his opened mouth after the second warning, deadly glare he received from Hermione that night.

“If you want to help, shut up and start searching the castle. If you find him, send me a Patronus,” Hermione simply said, and walked to the door. Before leaving Lupin’s office, she turned to him and added, “I’ll do the same.”

Remus nodded, approaching a still outraged but silent Harry.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan rested against the wall for a long time, concentrating on breathing. He opened his eyes but didn’t move. He stared at the high ceiling while he indulged the thoughts that filled his confused mind.

He moved his head to the right, still resting it on the stone wall. There were shelves protected with crystal glasses, and he could make out the shiny badges and trophies kept on them. He stared at a particularly big trophy, but he didn’t really care to whom or for what merit it had been awarded. He stared, saw it, but didn’t care much for anything.

Now that the shock of the revelation was wearing off, he felt a strange numbness. It was like a weight from his heart had been finally lifted, and it was dazzling and oddly sad. 

It was so obvious now. All the signs, all the clues he had failed to catch. The strange look on Snape’s face when he’d told him he didn’t know who his father was; the way his professor looked and treated him after that night, during the detentions. _He tried to get rid of more than once_ , he remembered and grimaced with the pain it caused.

Nathan righted his head and was again facing the ceiling of the trophy room. _He knew I was looking for him_. He brought his eyes to his lap, his clasped hands resting there. _He never wanted me to find out_. His eyes lost their focus. _He never wanted me_. That brought an uncomfortable, heavy feeling to his chest. Nathan replayed all those times he was shooed from the dungeons for no apparent reason, all those times his professor – _no, father_ – showed his disgust for him for what looked like nothing at all, but that now Nathan knew why.

He felt a knot in his throat, but he hadn’t the strength or the will to cry anymore. Yes, it was like a nightmare and he wanted to wake up, but his eyes were already open and there was nothing else he could do. So he stared at his hands and brought his knees closer to his chest.

A roughness in a curious pattern on the stone floor caught his attention while he concentrated on breathing again. _Why didn’t he tell me?_ There could be so many reasons… _Why didn’t she tell me?_ The pleading voice of his mother asking for his comprehension rang in his head. _Why did she keep saying she couldn’t tell me?_ Reasons for that, Nathan thought, were harder to find. Nathan always thought she’d kept his father a secret and away because he was dangerous in some way. This idea didn’t go well with what Hermione ever told him about Professor Snape. 

Nathan closed his mouth tighter, creasing his forehead, gripping his robes, scratching his nails on his knees. He closed his eyes, trying to rein the surge of feelings, but his breaths were still coming in puffs. How could he bear all they had done to him? _Why would they want to hurt me like this?_ His mother, his father; they were his parents! They were supposed to take care of him. They were supposed to love him! The cloth closed in his grip was all that prevented him from injuring his palms. He tried to tear the fabric, but was too weak to do more than wrinkle it. So he stared at his white-knuckled hands, again.

And staring wasn’t enough, so in angry frustration, Nathan stood from the corner and walked across the room, stopping to stand in front of a crystal display. The yellow light of the torches illuminating the room made the plate he faced shine and his focus changes. He now stared at himself reflected in the glass. “Stupid!” He grimaced. “You’re so stupid!” he growled at himself. Disgusted, he splayed a hand over his reflection. Still frustrated, he punched, and punched again with more force. He felt a little better, so he kept hitting the glass.

Nathan spent himself in his rage, knocking some of the prizes inside the cases. He was now on his knees, panting. “Stupid,” he said in a whiny whisper. Nathan raised his eyes, and something shiny caught his attention. He whimpered, realizing it was the necklace. Taking all the strength he had left, he crawled to it; grabbing it and throwing it as far as his sore arms could manage. “I hate you!” 

Recoiling in that same cold, hard corner, Nathan cried again, but this time he never saw the flow of tears fading; he fell into a blissful sleep.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione walked quickly through the ancient halls of Hogwarts castle, heading for the dungeons. She was sure that nothing could counter whatever charms Severus had placed on Nathan’s necklace; they would find him in no time, they had to. 

Since Remus’ head had showed up in her hearth until she’d burst into his office, thoughts of how this came to happen and of how her baby was faring were crawling her mind, unforgiving. As much as she had played this moment over and over in her head, she could never be sure. Her heart wanted to believe that Nathan would understand, that he would finally find joy over the answer to his long-asked question. She could hope; she would hope.

Until she entered Remus’ office. There, her hope faltered a little by the presence of Harry, but what hit it hardest were Remus words describing how he last saw Nathan: running, lost. She needed to find him, she had to find him, she would find him. And then… then what? She didn’t know anymore, but Hermione knew her place was wherever her son was.

Breathing heavily, she entered Severus’ office. There was no one in the room. She quickly walked in, reaching the lab’s hidden door, opening it just to find another empty room. _His quarters_ , she thought, turning on her heels, determined. Yes, she’d noticed the disarray of vials in the back of the office and listened to the cracking glass under her shoes, but that only fitted the image forming in her mind of the disaster that had taken place there today.

Severus’ quarters weren’t far from there. _Severus… What happened here?_ Nathan and then Harry, this was a nightmare! She knocked and called, “Severus!” She knocked again. “Severus, open up!” The door opened, and she walked in before being invited, stopping in front of the hearth. She heard it again, the same sound of crunching glass coming from under her shoes. She assessed her surroundings, noticing the empty mantelpiece. She looked back to the man studying her from between the lank curtain of black hair. 

“I need-”

“How is-” Severus spoke at the same time. 

Both halted their words, waiting the other to finish. No one continued. Severus nodded, giving her the turn to speak. 

“I need your help to find Nathan,” she said, intrigued by the scenario she was finding in the Potions master’s living room, including said master. “You can get to him through that necklace, can’t you?”

He didn’t answer right away. She waited for his words, barely concealing her despair for them. She had to find Nathan, but she needed his help, so she waited. Seconds, unbearable seconds. “Severus?” she urged.

“I can’t,” he finally answered, but didn’t elaborate.

Hermione found him suspiciously… distant, dispassionate. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I can’t,” he repeated, his dark eyes shining angrily at her. “He took the necklace off.” 

_Not that dispassionate_ , she realized, before averting her eyes from his and lamenting Nathan’s actions. She had been counting on the necklace. Hermione turned from him, brushing her hair back in a nervous movement. 

“If that’s all, you can always resort to locating spells. I’m sure you know at least one.” His eagerness to get her out of there didn’t surprise her, but the irritation it brought was hard to ignore.

“The locator spells aren’t working, that’s why I thought we could use the necklace,” she explained tersely, with her back still turned to him.

He went silent again. Hermione turned to see the reason and found him lost in thought. As if sensing her eyes on him, Severus said, “He doesn’t want to be found.”

Hermione didn’t even fight the urge to roll her eyes. “That’s pretty obvious, Severus, and that’s also not an option.” Anxiety made Hermione snidely add, “Are you going to help me or not? Because if not, you’re wasting my time and I really don’t want to lose any more time that I could be using to find-”

“Wait here,” he said with some force to his normally smooth voice so as to override her nervous babble, and then retreated to another room of his quarters.

Hermione didn’t have much time to protest. Severus was soon back, dressed in his black wool coat. He passed by her, heading for the exit. She didn’t follow.

“I thought you didn’t want to waste time,” he pointed out, startling her into following him out into the dungeons corridor.

When he strode purposefully towards the enchanted stairs, she said, “I thought to start the search in the dungeons.”

“He’s not down here,” he said simply, never slowing his pace or turning back to her.

“He might be down here, and since we are here already, we should start with the dungeons,” Hermione insisted, struggling to keep up with Severus.

“He’s not in the dungeons,” he assured again.

Hermione ran a few steps to stand in front of him, holding a hand to his chest to halt his advance. “I think he might be down here.” Her eyes were pure determination.

“Yes, because someone running from me would obviously hide in the dungeons,” he agreed sarcastically, eyes on hers.

“Because it would be the last place you would look,” she said back, and a staring moment later, added, “and he might not be running from you.”

“Stay, if you prefer,” he said, removing her hand from his chest.

He was almost in the Entrance Hall when she sighed and followed. Hermione didn’t know what was going through Severus’ head, just as she didn’t know what had passed there earlier that evening. Catching up with him, she went the first set of stairs in silence, gathering her breath after her run.

“Where do you think he is?” Hermione wasn’t a fool; she realized he was heading somewhere specific.

“The seventh floor,” he answered.

“Why the seventh floor?” she asked, now also curious with his hunch.

He stopped in his tracks, annoyed. “I always find him there when he’s upset. Now, if you would stop asking annoying questions, we could get there faster.” Severus turned and started walking again.

“You have yet to answer a lot of my annoying questions, Severus. Don’t think I’ll refrain from making them just because you look at me with your Hufflepuff-scaring glare.”

He didn’t answer.

“What happened today?” Hermione asked.

“ _Potter_ happened,” he growled.

Hermione walked close to Severus. When he didn’t elaborate, she insisted, “What did Harry do?”

No answer.

“Severus, I need to know what happened. When we get to Nathan, I need to be prepared.” She saw the muscles flexing while his jaw worked furiously.

“He came here to tell me how to deal with my students, the arrogant brat! I’ve been doing this all my life and I don’t need a nuisance of a Potter to tell me how I should educate my students!” Severus bared his teeth and growled curses under his breath. 

“And he told you that you shouldn’t treat Nathan like you treated him.” She wasn’t asking. Hermione knew Harry all too well to doubt he wouldn’t.

Severus stopped to look at her again; his eyes were black flames of determined fury. “He can’t tell me how to treat my son!”

Hermione held his gaze, as difficult as it seemed. “No, he can’t,” she agreed after a while. It was visible how her words surprised him. “Harry didn’t have the right to interfere, I agree with you.”

Severus resumed his walk, slower now, and she found it easier to keep up with him. “So you simply told him that.” Her affirmation, a question; his silence, her answer. “And Nathan heard,” she lamented, still looking at him. He bowed his head just enough for his hair to obscure his face.

They finished climbing the remaining steps in thoughtful silence. Hermione was connecting the pieces of information and drawing the big picture of what have happened. If Severus was arguing with Harry when he had admitted his fatherhood, then Nathan had found out the worst way possible. _What a disaster_ , she bemoaned to herself.

They walked the corridors of the seventh floor now. Severus was walking faster again. They turned a corner, and he slowed his pace, stopping altogether in front of a large window. She didn’t need to be a Legilimens to know that was the place he had been heading for. But Nathan wasn’t there, and she felt her heart clench tighter. _Where are you, baby?_ she thought, afflicted. 

“I never meant to let him know, especially not like this.” Severus broke the silence, still looking out the window to the grounds. 

“We’ll find him,” she heard herself assure him. “Where else do you think he might be?”

Severus shook his head, his back still to her. Hermione approached the window, standing beside him. She’d never seen him like this. It’s not that she’d never seen emotions in him, because she had. Anger, distaste, annoyance, indifference, smugness, but never this… Helplessness? Grief? Regret? She couldn’t place it; but her impulse to make him feel better, she could. 

“Everything will be fine. We’ll find him, and we’ll work things out,” she assured again, placing a hand on the crook of his crossed arm. He brought his gaze from the grounds to her hand. She squeezed his arm, reassuring, and turned to resume her search. Severus was the one following now.

They rounded the floor and still there was no sign of Nathan. They went down one floor, nothing. They descend another floor and Hermione was startled by a purple light shining behind her. “What was that?” she questioned Severus, who had his wand out.

“He’s still blocking the locator spells,” he answered frowning. “Did you teach him that?”

Hermione shook her head. “He learns a fair many things on his own, from books,” she commented. “He’s a proud know-it-all,” she added with an apologetic smile. 

“That he is,” he agreed.

“But I don’t think he’s actually casting any shield or ward,” she continued. “His raw magic was always very perceptible, and he does have a strong temper.”

“Yes, he does,” Severus agreed again.

A noise coming from the end of the corridor made them alert. Severus strode in the direction of the sound, wand at the ready. Hermione was close behind. Near a statue, Severus stopped and murmured what Hermione realized was an enchantment. Two boys appeared out of thin air. 

“Mr. Henderson and Mr. Farner,” Severus said, facing the boys in time with his addressing. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for wandering the castle after curfew,” he stated. “And detention,” he added. 

The boys only sighed, lowering their heads and preparing to go back to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione made them back up. “Did you see Nathan Granger, my son?” she asked them.

“No, we didn’t, Ms. Granger,” the taller one answered.

Hermione nodded her understanding, dropping her eyes. 

“Do you want us to help look for him?” the shorter – Mr. Henderson, she thought – offered.

“That won’t be necessary. You’ve wandered enough for tonight. Now, back to your common room,” Severus ordered before Hermione could even think about the boys’ offer. 

They quickly disappeared around the corner, heading for the marble stairs.

Hermione sighed. 

“Those dunderheads would be of more hindrance than help,” Severus said, already steps ahead of her. 

Hermione didn’t bother to argue. She was getting more anxious and worried with every corridor and room they found empty or inhabited by students other than Nathan. “Where are you, honey?” she murmured. If Severus heard, one would consider his increased pace an answer.

Another floor thoroughly searched and yet no sign of Nathan. They were now on the fourth floor. 

“Where is he?” Hermione asked, nervous. “We’ve been through half the castle and no sign of him! Do you think he might be outside, in the Forest? Maybe I should send Harry and Remus there, just in case. If he’s injured and can’t come back, like the last time… I can’t handle this anymore!”

“Get a grip on yourself, woman!” Severus chided her. “He’s not in the Forest. We have three floors and the dungeons to search.” He took his wand out and tried the locator spell again. The purple light glowed and steadied in an arrow pointing downstairs.

Hermione passed by Severus, calling, “Nathan!”

Severus sighed relieved and followed. They went down another flight of stairs and were now entering the third floor. Two corridors ahead, Severus opened the door to a room: the trophy room. Even if the locator spell hadn’t pointed to this room, the torches illuminating it would have been enough to evidence the presence of someone there. The same torches made an object on the ground glow, and Severus went for it, but Hermione was oblivious. She looked around; the room wasn’t small.

“I found him,” Severus said, some feet away, looking to the base of a suit of armor. Hermione was quickly by his side, looking in the same direction. There, with his head hung to one side, reclined in the wall, legs curled up beneath him, was Nathan.

“Nathan!” Hermione said, hurrying to get to him. Severus halted her with a firm grip of her arm. She looked angrily at him.

“You’ll wake him,” he said. She struggled to get free, ignoring his words. “He won’t come if he’s awake,” Severus insisted. Hermione stopped struggling.

Severus released her and approached the boy on the floor. Hermione observed how easily it seemed for him to take Nathan into his arms and carry him. Severus cautiously arranged Nathan in his grip and their son mumbled in his sleep, but didn’t wake. She went to them and carefully shifted Nathan’s arm that was limply hanging to rest on his chest. 

“Where?” Severus asked in a soft voice.

“My quarters on the fourth floor,” Hermione whispered back. She took her wand out and conjured her Patronus, sending it to Harry and Remus with the message that they’d found Nathan. Severus looked disapproving, but said nothing. 

Hermione didn’t say anything while they walked the corridors and stairs that separated them from her quarters, and neither did Severus, but the thoughts in her mind were distracting her from the echoing sound of their shoes to the stone floor. She walked beside Severus, looking Nathan’s sleeping face and thinking about everything that had passed that day. Her son knew what she’d kept a secret for all those years; he knew who his father was. It would be a relief, if it wasn’t for how things had come to be. 

Nathan wasn’t supposed to be that distressed over the news, at least not in Hermione’s head. She had always been so careful to tell him how Severus was, pointing out his many qualities and trying to explain his many flaws. She was certain that Nathan found Severus interesting and intelligent, admirable. Finding out the Potions master was actually his father shouldn’t have been such a disaster. But the scenario she’d found tonight was telling her otherwise. _Will he forgive me?_ she thought, absorbed in Nathan’s even breathing blowing a strand of Severus hair. _Will he forgive Severus?_

She was brought back from her musings by the need to provide the password that gave them access to her quarters. They entered, and she quickly advanced to the bedroom, pulling the covers from the bed so Severus could place Nathan gently on it. Hermione sat by the foot of the bed and carefully took Nathan’s shoes off. She stood, unbuttoned the robes and undid the already loose knot from his tie, removing it as well. She wanted to remove his robes, but couldn’t do it by herself.

“Severus,” she whispered. “Can you hold him upright? I want to remove his robes,” she asked.

When she was ready, Hermione nodded at Severus, who slowly lifted Nathan into a sitting position. She removed her son’s robes as if he were her four-year-old baby again. When Severus didn’t lower him back right away, she shifted her attention from Nathan to the man holding him. Severus was looking at her hands holding their son’s smaller ones together, with Nathan reclined against him, head resting near his chin. It was with regret that she broke the moment. “I’m done.”

Severus smoothly placed Nathan back down on the mattress, softly lowering his head to the pillow. Hermione covered her boy and then felt the wards warning her of someone by the door. She kissed his forehead and left the bedroom, leaving father and son alone and closing the door behind her.

Hermione opened the door to her quarters for Harry and Remus.

“How is he?” Harry asked as soon as he entered the living room.

“He’s asleep, as we found him. He’s physically unharmed. We’ll know more in the morning,” she said, taking a seat by the hearth with a sigh.

“He’ll be fine, Hermione,” Remus assured. “He’s a smart and strong boy; he’ll understand.”

Hermione nodded. She was emotionally and physically tired, now that the adrenaline was getting back to its normal rate.

“Where is Snape?” Harry asked, sharp.

“He’s with Nathan,” Hermione answered.

“What?” Harry stood from the seat he had just taken to move in the direction of the bedroom. Hermione locked its door just in time to obstruct Harry’s advance. “Open up, Hermione,” he demanded.

“No, Harry,” she said. “You’ve interfered enough.”

“You left Nathan alone with Snape! Of course I’ll interfere!” he said all too loud. 

“No, you won’t, and keep your voice down!” Hermione hissed.

“Harry,” Remus said in a warning voice.

“Stay out of this, Remus,” he cautioned the werewolf. “Hermione!” Harry was indignant. “Open the door, or I’ll…” He stared at her.

She closed her eyes, too tired to rant at Harry. “I won’t open it, and neither will you. I’m too tired to argue with you, Harry.” She left her seat and went to him. “Severus is his father, and he can be with Nathan whenever he wants,” she added, removing his hand from the doorknob with some difficulty. “Go home, Harry,” she asked. “We can talk when I’m not too tired to give you hell.” She glared at him.

“Hermione, you can’t let Snape in there-”

“Not now, Harry,” she raised her voice to interrupt him. “Go home.”

“Come on, Harry,” Remus tugged at him.

“This is not right, Hermione,” he said before leaving with Remus. She sighed when the door closed.

Taking her wand out once more, she unlocked the bedroom door and entered quietly, so as not to disturb the sleeping boy. The scene that met her eyes took her breath away and made her hope rise again in her heart. Severus was seated on the corner of the bed, looking at Nathan’s face, with a hand on his son’s head, tracing soothing patterns with his thumb on the boy’s forehead. In his other hand, he had the necklace pressed on Nathan’s chest, and was obviously feeling his heartbeat. Severus didn’t notice her enter. She approached the pair slowly, but startled Severus anyway, who took his hands off Nathan and placed the necklace on the side table. 

“I’ll leave you with him,” he said, obviously feeling awkward with how unguarded she’d found him.

Hermione took his hands in hers, and looking in his eyes, said, “Everything will be all right.” And she meant every word, in her renewed hope in their future. “He’ll forgive us.”

Severus slipped his hands from hers and nodded. He bowed his head and had his hand on the doorknob to leave when Hermione said, “Happy birthday, Severus.” He left without a word or a look back, and Hermione didn’t expect he would act any differently. She took his place on the side of the bed and observed the rise and fall of Nathan’s chest. “You were his gift,” she murmured, “and he accepted you.” She smiled. “Everything will be all right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, things are complicated for some, but apparently better for others. What about you? How does it feel for you? Let me know, leave me a review! :0)
> 
> I want to thank my awesome beta, Snarkyroxy. She’s more responsible for the success of this story than she thinks. :0) I also have a new beta. Three cheers for GinW, who was promoted from muse guardian angel to beta reader when Poultrygeist’s RL unfortunately took her away from me. But I know she’s still reading. *waves*
> 
> On other news, I have a new drawing of Nathan to show. You can see it at: http://www.deviantart.com/view/36100949/
> 
>  **Coming next…** Nathan wakes up and faces his parents.


	21. Hurting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan wakes up and has to face his new reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READERS FOR THIS CHAPTER:** SnarkyRoxy and GinW – thank you very much!

Nathan felt his mouth become dry and darted his tongue out to wet his lips. He took a deep breath but didn’t open his eyes. He stretched and yawned, and something was odd; _that_ , his numb brain registered. He rolled over and stretched some more. _What was odd?_ Of course, this bed was fluffy and endless. _Good_ , he thought, _just like mum’s_. Mum? He opened his eyes and assessed his surroundings. He was not in his bed. _Why am I not in my room?_ He rubbed his eyes, forcing his mind to work. 

And he regretted the effort.

Last night’s events came rushing with his consciousness, and Snape was again his father. _Where am I?_ He sat in bed, now worried. Nathan didn’t remember leaving the trophy room. He looked around and finally found out where he was. He closed his eyes and threw himself back on the fluffy pillow. That could only mean his _mother_ was here. Who called her? He didn’t want to see her!

Nathan opened his eyes to stare at the canopy of his mother’s bed. He needed to get out of there. He sat up in bed again, searching for his clothes. He found them on a chair and moved to put them on quickly. He was dressing with his back turned to the door when he heard it open. _Damn!_

“Nathan,” he heard his mother say. 

He stopped buttoning his robes and stood still, never turning in Hermione’s direction.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he heard her voice saying, closer now. “You seemed very tired last night. Are you feeling better?” Her soft voice was only increasing his anger.

Then a hand landed on his shoulder. Nathan stood stiller yet before shrugging her hand off him.

“I’m fine,” he said simply and restarted buttoning his robes.

“Nathan, we should talk about what happened yesterday.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he informed her.

“I know you have many questions, and for the first time, I can give you the answers.” His mother’s words made him turn to face her.

Nathan wanted to tell her how much he didn’t need any of her answers now, but he just said, “I know what I wanted to know, I must be late for class.”

Nathan passed by Hermione and went for the door, but it slammed shut. He turned, annoyed, to glare at her.

“You are excused from your classes,” she told him. “We have all morning to talk.”

“To talk about what?!” he spat, tired of her. “So Snape is my father. Big deal!”

“Yes, it’s a big deal. You know it’s a big deal,” Hermione said back, glaring at him. She sighed. “Please, let’s talk about it.”

Nathan was holding her eyes with his for a moment before saying, “I don’t see the point.”

Hermione frowned. “Don’t you want your father to be part of your life? Don’t you want to get to know him and spend time with him? You can do all of that now, that’s the point.”

Nathan had dreamed of all those things his mother was telling him. He’d wanted a father for so long, and now he had one. He knew who his father was, and knew he would never have that. _I don’t need them._

“I don’t want any of this anymore. I don’t want and I don’t need. I don’t need any of you,” Nathan said.

“Do you want to know how worried about you he was yesterday?” She slowly walked his way. “He was very worried. And I was very worried, too. Severus cares for you, Nathan.” 

Nathan was shaking his head, refusing to believe what she was telling him. _She’s a liar_ , he reminded himself. _You don’t need her lies._

He gritted his teeth and said, “I don’t believe you. Everything you say is a lie. You never wanted me to know that Professor Snape was my father; you never wanted me to be happy with him.”

“Nathan, it’s not true.” She got closer, and he circled the room away from her.

“You could have told me. He was no threat to us! He was not in Azkaban, he was not dangerous. You even said he was honorable and good. You should have told me! You knew I wanted to know. I spent a month with him, asking stupid questions about my father, making a fool of myself! Were you laughing? Was he telling you how pathetic I was every time I asked him about my father?” Nathan was shouting now.

“Nathan,” she tried to interrupt.

“It must have been good to laugh about me, or you would have told me before. Would you tell me sometime soon? Were you planning for me to find out like this and make me yet more miserable? Because that is exactly how I felt. Are you happy now?!” He was panting. Nathan wanted to physically hurt her, so she could feel how painful it was.

Hermione quickly went to him, not giving him a chance to escape. She hugged him hard. Her hug was suffocating, and the pain in his chest was getting unbearable. 

“I’m not happy, I’m not happy. I’m miserable, too. I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she was whispering in his ear.

He didn’t want to hear her excuses, Nathan wanted her to go away; he wanted the pain to subside. He struggled, and she hugged him harder. He growled and fought with new resolve, until she couldn’t hold him anymore.

He looked at her, breathing hard. She was on the verge of tears and he didn’t pity her.

“Don’t touch me again,” he said. “I don’t want to hear your lies ever again. I hate you!” Nathan took his wand, took some deep breaths, and intoned the incantation that opened the door for him. Before leaving, though, he turned to his dumbfounded mother and calmly added, “From now on, I’ll live with Uncle Harry.” 

And he turned and heard her sob. And he didn’t back down. He didn’t even turn to glance at her. She would feel how bad he felt, and that’s what he wanted. Only then, Nathan left.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus spent what had been left of the previous night thinking about what had passed. With one declaration, he had taken his place as Nathan’s father and he was sure damned by now. He cursed under his breath, but had no escape this time. He’d claimed, his heart had claimed, and he was now officially Nathan’s father, regardless of what was best and prudent. 

Like Severus had predicted when he first realized who the boy really was, the situation urged him to take action, and his need for making new decisions, thus enhancing the number of mistakes he committed in life, was paying off already. What passed through his mind while he’d carried Nathan to bed revolved around the pain he was causing his son already, that he knew was only a sample of what was to come. The terrified look on Nathan’s face in his office, he taking the necklace off, the way he took refuge in the trophy room, were all actions that spoke volumes to how likely it was that _everything would be all right_ , like Granger kept saying. 

Severus rolled his eyes. The woman was delusional, but she loved the boy. If her previous reactions to Nathan’s foul behavior were to be taken for granted, she’ll be miserable the moment the boy woke up. 

He knew Nathan’s foul behavior would be getting to him as well. _What will the boy do?_ Severus knew it was useless to try and predict Nathan’s behavior, he’d learned that through their month of detentions. There was no way to know what Nathan would do. 

But there was no way to convince his mind of that. 

The last thing Severus thought Nathan would do was take the news nicely, although images of his son smiling at him while working on a potion, exactly where that Hufflepuff was now, crossed his mind, and he could see himself nodding approvingly to acknowledge the perfect brew just to see the smile grow into a wide grin. 

“Mr. Carson, keep your mouth shut for the rest of the class. Five points from Hufflepuff,” Severus said dispassionately to the third-year talking for what seemed the millionth time with his classmate while brewing the assigned potion of this morning’s double class.

Nathan accepting him was also troubling in many ways. He didn’t know how to be a father. What if the boy expected more than he could give? Severus wasn’t about to start hugging and petting, like he’d seen Potter do. He couldn’t imagine himself taking broom rides, playing Exploding Snap, or any of those silly things. Would Nathan want that? Was that what he longed for in a father? Severus suddenly realized he didn’t know Nathan at all, and it felt oddly sad.

Instead of thinking over everything he missed of Nathan’s life, Severus chose to concentrate on what was more probable to happen. If his son was already awake, he might be yelling at his mother, blaming her for everything that had gone wrong in his young life. He’d seen Nathan do as much before, and Severus wouldn’t condemn him for that. In Nathan’s position, he would do worse than that. Shouts of accusations were a light breeze in the storm of his life.

Severus blinked longer than usual to erase the image that brought to mind, and when he opened his eyes again, he saw only the Ravenclaw girl stirring a cauldron with great concentration at the workbench nearer his desk. The class would soon be over and he would find out what would become of his life from now on. Surely Granger would be expecting him for a chat, with or without Nathan.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione stared out the window at the cold white morning. The beautiful view of the snowy grounds had helped to calm her after Nathan’s departure a few hours ago. Everything had gone wrong. Nathan wasn’t only upset and hurt, he was furious, and his fury and resolve to pull away in this difficult and confusing time was heartbreaking for her; he’d preferred to stay alone.

A child who went through what he just did shouldn’t be alone, but her presence seemed to bring out the worst in him at the moment. It hurt. Knowing your own child couldn’t stand looking at you without feeling angry, betrayed, vulnerable… It hurt deeper than Hermione could have imagined. The things he’d said…

She was glad Severus hadn’t been with them when Nathan woke up. After things went quiet the night before, Hermione had replayed the last scenes of Severus with Nathan in her head and she’d wished Severus could have been with them then. Now, all she could think of was how much bigger the disaster would have been if he had stayed. She didn’t know how prepared Severus was to deal with this level of hatred from someone he cared for, knowing how fragile this feeling still was for him and how reserved towards his feelings he was. Severus wouldn’t have understood… 

Hermione had taken these hours to be pessimistic for a change. It hurt, but now she felt prepared to fight and make things right as they should have been since the beginning. It was all her fault this situation had achieved such proportions, and she would fix it. Hermione would not let their happiness fly from her hands now that all the cards were played. She had nothing to lose anymore.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione left her quarters at Hogwarts. She wanted to believe she had really nothing to lose, but deep down inside she knew it only hurt because it was all about to be lost. Hermione wanted the feeling to go away. Her anxiety wouldn’t let her stay waiting any longer. She would start right away, and the only waiting she would do was for Severus in his office.

~o0oOo0o~

Harry stared at the report he was supposed to be filling in. Hermione had lost her mind and was taking him with her into insanity. He rubbed his forehead, trying to alleviate the pain there.

“Having a bad day, boss?” Tonks asked in a tone of chide.

Harry only sighed.

When Harry didn’t say a thing, she asked more seriously, “Feeling all right there, Harry?”

Harry sensed Tonks preoccupation. “Headache,” he said simply, not lifting his head to look at her; she now had taken a chair and was sitting on it backwards across from Harry.

“Do you know what’s causing it?” she pressed.

“Yes,” Harry said, and then finally looked at her. “Your husband.”

Tonks held the back of the chair with both hands at arms length, withdrawing from Harry’s table but still facing him with a frown.

“And Hermione,” Harry added.

Tonks’ eyes widened and Harry realized his mistake. “No, no. You’re getting me wrong.”

Tonks’ face relaxed, now curiously eyeing Harry for an explanation.

“I went to Hogwarts yesterday. Since Christmas I’ve been intending on clearing some things up. Now I took care of what I went there to, but everything else is as clear as mud.”

“Harry, you’re making no more sense than Scrimgeour,” Tonks commented.

“How much you know about Nathan’s father?” Harry asked.

Tonks eyes straightened.

“I know Remus knows, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he answered her unspoken question.

“I know Remus knows, too, but he tells me it’s not his secret to tell. What did you find out?”

“I found out,” Harry stated.

Tonks approached Harry’s table again, now holding the back of her chair under her chin. “You did,” she commented conspiratorially, her eyes darkening a shade.

“Yes, but your husband wants me to keep it quiet.”

Tonks rolled her eyes, straightening in her chair again. “Remus is no fun. Are you going by him?”

Harry sighed, throwing his head back for a while and bringing it forward again. “I don’t know. Hermione is completely insane! I can’t believe she-” he stopped ranting and took a deep breath. All this anger was adding to his headache. “I think Remus might be right about this.” He closed his eyes tight, holding the bridge of his nose.

“It’s Snape,” Tonks declared.

Harry snapped his eyes open and stared at her.

“Only Snape or You-Know-Who are capable of giving you such a headache, and let’s face it, Nathan has Snape written all over him.”

There was no denying that. “I thought Snape could be his father, of course, but to know for sure…” Harry admitted.

“What made me think twice were Hermione’s actions, with her moving to the Muggle world and all. That didn’t make any sense, knowing all she did for him, which in a way supported the theory of them having something romantically…” She analyzed the possibilities. “But seriously, Harry. It’s not as if the world is ending,” Tonks added after only a moment, placing a slap on his arm.

“Tonks, you don’t understand. Nathan found out, too. He was there when Snape yelled he was his father. You should have seen his face; the boy was horrified, and with reason,” Harry pointed out, making clear that the situation was grave. “And Hermione is nurturing the mad idea of making Nathan and Snape interact; she left him alone with Snape. She’s lost her mind!”

“Snape yelled _that_ at Nathan?” Tonks seemed shocked.

“He yelled at me and we didn’t know Nathan was there, but still…” Harry said dismissively. “How can Hermione trust Snape like this? It’s Snape!”

Tonks shrugged. “If he’s the father…” She took notice of the clock hanging on the wall behind Harry and stood, placing the chair to its place. “I’ve got to run. We can talk more later, Harry.” She left the office, calling for another Auror who had just passed the door.

 _Can’t they see?_ he thought, annoyed. It seemed Harry was the only one thinking about Nathan in this situation. Hermione had lost her mind, Remus was not interfering, as always, and now Tonks didn’t care at all. Well, he cared.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus entered his office and wasn’t surprised to find the woman staring blankly at the snowflakes falling by the high round window, maybe a little disappointed that she was alone, but not surprised at all.

“Severus,” she acknowledged his presence, seeming a little startled but also relieved. 

He walked to his desk, taking his seat behind it, facing the armchair she occupied. “Granger,” he said then, not knowing what else to say.

Silence fell upon them while he observed her struggle to construct her sentences in her head. 

“He was very upset,” she told him finally. “He doesn’t know what to do with the news.”

Severus didn’t say anything. That was expected as he had told her before, but he preferred to listen more before throwing that at her.

She continued, “He’s trying to pretend it’s not important, and he got very defensive when I tried to tell him the contrary. He didn’t let me explain anything, either.” Her eyes hardened when she finished saying that, but any other changes were lost to him when she lowered her gaze to her lap.

“Did he tell you how much he hates you already?” Severus asked after a while.

She took a deep breath and looked at him, chin up. “He doesn’t really hate me,” she said, “or you.”

 _So he’d said he hates me as well_ , Severus concluded. “How much doesn’t he hate us?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She sighed. “A very great deal,” Granger admitted.

“Can I say it now?” he dared to tease.

“No, you cannot!” she countered firmly, her tired eyes regaining some of their usual shine. “If you had listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened. You can absolutely not say a word, Severus Snape!”

Severus reclined in his chair, arching both eyebrows to convey a surprise he didn’t really feel over her outburst. “He hates us that much?”

“He said he’ll live with Harry. That’s how much he hates us!”

Those words really surprised him, making him frown. “He’ll not live with Potter.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m here saying that Nathan is upset, confused, and withdrawn, and you only care when you hear Harry’s name!” She was beyond annoyed and nervous and distressed. “It’s well past time you get your priorities sorted, Severus!”

Severus narrowed his eyes at her tone, but instead of answering her accusations, he finally decided to use his next words to put some sense in the woman. “You obviously know that this is all your fault, Granger. You brought this boy to life and decided to raise him inside a bubble of lies and false hopes. How could you expect he wouldn’t hate you?” And sensing her will to interrupt him, he quickly added, “Yes, he truly hates you, and he hates me as well, of course, but there is nothing new about that. Grow up, woman! You can’t live your fairytale anymore!”

Her lower lip trembled with the retort he knew she was struggling to hold back. But it was true; all he’d said was nothing but the truth.

After some tense silence, she spoke in a surprisingly controlled voice, “Do you know Nathan, Severus?” she asked and made a pause. “I know you don’t and I’m not happy about it, but I’m happy, yes, with the fact that I _do know_ him. I know how big his heart is, how sensible and loving he truly is.” The truth she delivered with her eyes made it impossible for him to doubt her words.

“He’s angry, feeling betrayed. Nathan is hurting.” Her voice lost some of its earlier steadiness. She stood to pace the room and, after some deep breaths, she continued, “He’s also confused, Severus. As prudent as he is, I don’t think he had anything prepared for this scenario.” She threw her arms in the air to emphasize her point. “He needs us right now, to help him sort things out. He won’t make it easy for us, but if we leave him to his own devices, he’ll nurture the wrong ideas and might come to truly hate us, then. Nathan is too introspective, Severus. If we don’t act now, there will be no coming back. He’s too stubborn and once he has made his decision, it’ll be really hard to make him see reason.” 

Granger was still pacing, but she stilled her movements for a short time. She seemed disturbed by a memory of some kind. She closed her eyes and said, “I don’t want to hear Nathan say he hates me ever again,” and looking at him, she added, “especially if the feeling is really there.” A haunted look filled her face. “I know you care for him, Severus. You won’t want to hear it, either, believe me.” 

Severus could have told her he was used to the hatred people felt towards him, or try to dissuade her from knowing that he cared for Nathan, but he didn’t feel like it. It was a strange realization, but he actually wanted to care for the boy and wanted people, or at least this woman here, to know he cared for his son. “Stop rambling and tell me what your plan is.”

And the smile that filled the woman’s face was obfuscating. 

“Smiling like a mad woman will not reassure me.” Annoyingly, that only made her smile more authentic, now reaching her brown eyes.

She took her seat again. “You two need to have some time together, outside the classroom, of course. He needs to see you as more than his teacher.” She tapped her lips with a finger, obviously thinking. 

Severus made use of that time to understand what she had just said. Spend time with Nathan outside classroom? That meant he would be acting like… a father! And the reality of the moment crushed him. _I am a father_.

“Books!” Granger exclaimed, startling him. “He loves books and you have an amazing collection in your quarters.” She smiled again.

“I can’t do this,” he found himself saying.

She sobered. “Of course you can,” she assured. “All you have to do is tell him you have a book to give him, and he’ll follow like a bee after honey.”

“I just can’t,” he reaffirmed, and stood, turning from her to satisfy the need for privacy of his thoughts. Severus could feel her eyes on his back, but images of failing were dominating his senses. He would fail his son, he knew he would. Damned time Potter showed up! Everything was perfect before that nuisance decided to defy him. Stupid Potter!

Nathan didn’t need him. His son had been doing fine without knowing the truth. Severus replayed the night before in his mind again and remembered how helpless his son had been. When he’d carried Nathan to bed, Severus had thought about how vulnerable the boy in his arms was. When he had helped prepare him for bed, Severus had been reassured by the weight of his boy resting against his chest; the way Granger so lovingly handled Nathan… Now he could only think of how fragile his son was... Expressions unguarded, raw; Nathan had seemed peaceful when he slept, so innocent…

And now, Severus would certainly destroy what good was left in his son’s life. He couldn’t do that, but he couldn’t help it from happening – he was no father. Severus closed his eyes, regretful. He couldn’t repeat what his father had done with him.

A hand landed on his right shoulder, and Severus almost flinched. “You’ll be a good father, Severus. You are, already.” Her voice was a caress, but her words brought no comfort. Severus couldn’t believe her. “I know you don’t think so, but being a good parent is all about caring and wanting what’s best for your child, and you do that, already.” The hand lifted from his shoulder after a reassuring squeeze, only to touch his face, tugging his hair behind his ear and effectively startling his eyes open again. “You can do this, Severus. I have faith in you,” she added, and her voice, hand and words caressed his senses, and this time they were all effective.

Severus was confused by Hermione Granger once again. _How can she believe in me like this?_ And oddly, it felt like he should believe her in kind. Could he? Severus turned his head and saw her gazing at him with open concern. Who is this woman? He could only stare at her.

Granger smiled. “Come, let’s find some other ways you can lure Nathan into talking with you,” she said, tugging at his arm, beckoning him to his desk. “He loves potions, but that’s out of question since that’s all you do together during class.”

Severus followed her lead to the desk, and watched her, fascinated by the faith she had in people and how courageous she actually was. Maybe those threads that had always made him think of Gryffindors as foolhardy imbeciles were indeed something to admire in them. Granger was still talking animatedly, as if all the problems in her life were about to be solved in the best way imaginable, when the truth was that they were only getting worse. 

“…but I’m not sure. He might get interested in talking about-”

“I’ll try,” he caught himself interrupting her rambling account of the many ways to get to Nathan. _What the hell am I doing? I lost my mind!_

She was staring at him now, searching, making him uncomfortable under such scrutiny, until she finally nodded. “That’s all we need.” 

Severus lowered his eyes to the table top, wanting the silence that followed that short statement, as well as this whole conversation, to end already. _Damn!_ He was committed; there was no turning back now. 

“As much as I don’t want to, I need to go back to London,” she blessedly answered his silent prayers. “I’ll be in touch with you for news or anything,” Granger added.

Severus heard her stand up to leave and stood as well. He kept silent while accompanying her to the door of his office, which she waited for him to open for her and he complied. She was passing by him at the door when she turned to face him again, a disturbing luminosity to her big brown eyes. “Thank you, Severus.” And she gave a half smile before making her way down the corridor towards the Entrance Hall.

He accompanied her path until he no longer could see her. By the time he’d noticed he wasn’t alone there, it had been too late. Severus looked at the Slytherin observing him oddly. “Lost something, Miss. Yaxley?” The girl shook her head in answer and quickly left. Severus banged the door closed.

~o0oOo0o~

“Nathan!” Andy exclaimed upon seeing him standing by the dormitory window.

“Hey, Andy,” Nathan answered, not as enthusiastically 

“What happened to you? Harry Potter was looking for you last night, and then you didn’t come back to sleep. Professor Lupin came here to tell us you were excused from classes this morning, but he wouldn’t say why. Are you in trouble?”

“No.” Nathan had forgotten about his friends. He couldn’t tell them that he had finally found out who his father was. He wouldn’t say he was Snape’s son. “I…” _Think of something!_ “I was with my mother,” he choked out. 

Andy was still looking at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation. Nathan opened his mouth to say whatever would come to mind, but Kevin arrived at the same time. “Nathan! Where have you been?”

“He was with his mother,” Andy advanced in answering. 

“Your mother? Was that why Harry Potter was after you last night?” Kevin complemented his questioning.

“I was with my mother. She… came to visit.” Nathan bought more time for coming up with something else to explain his absence.

“Is there something wrong?” Andy asked carefully.

Nathan thought of using his mother being ill as an excuse, but running the possibilities of that lie in his head, thought better of it. They would see her on the weekend, anyway. “Not really,” he answered. “My mother is fine, but… she wanted to see me.”

“But she’s here every weekend, isn’t she?” Kevin commented. “Can we be excused from classes if our parents come to visit us?” Kevin’s expression changed from confused to thoughtful. “That would be useful…”

“You know how mothers are,” Nathan shrugged. “Anyway, it got late and I stayed in her quarters for the night. She was staying here all morning today, so she asked Professor Lupin to excuse me from classes.” There you have it. It was true, but not the whole the truth. _Excellent!_ he congratulated himself.

“Lucky you!” Andy said. “Maybe I can convince my parents of visiting me on a Monday morning. It would be great to be excused from Snape’s class.”

Snape. Nathan sobered. “Can we go to the Great Hall for lunch? I didn’t have much at breakfast; I’m hungry,” he said, wanting to forget about the man and move on with his normal life.

There was no objection to his suggestion, and they talked about what he had missed that morning in class while descending to the Great Hall. Nothing unusual happened on their way there, as expected. _Of course that nothing has changed with the school life!_ Nathan thought, annoyed with himself. Why would something change in the castle because Professor Snape was his father? It wouldn’t. But he couldn’t face those passing by them in the halls. Nathan walked watching his steps.

Only when Nathan saw Andy’s feet step in what he knew was the Great Hall’s floor was it that he realized Professor Snape would be there. He didn’t follow Andy or Kevin. Other students passed by him, and only after some time convincing himself that he was being a coward baby did he look up. His eyes went straight to the seat left of the Headmistress’ – the _empty_ seat. Alleviated, Nathan looked to the remaining staff joining the Headmistress for lunch and found Professor Lupin observing him. That made him uneasy again.

“Weren’t you hungry?” Kevin called, and Nathan finally went to the table, sitting by him. Kevin was staring at him, and so was Andy. But entertained by the conversation around them, they forgot Nathan’s awkward behavior.

Nathan ate little. He could still feel Professor Lupin’s eyes on him from time to time. _What does he want? Mum must have told him to keep an eye on me_ , he thought, angered with Hermione again. He didn’t take a bite of his dessert. The others finished and they were ready to leave for the afternoon classes when Andy, sitting across from Nathan, acknowledged, “Good afternoon, Professor Lupin.”

“Good afternoon, Andrew, girls, boys,” came the retort from over Nathan’s head. “How are you today?”

Various answers followed Professor Lupin’s question, but Nathan kept silent.

“What about you, Nathan?” he heard, then. “Don’t you like apple pie?”

“Not really, sir. There is no chocolate in it.”

“I always have chocolate in my office, if you need some,” Professor Lupin said, his eyes conveying the real meaning of that offer.

Nathan wanted to accept Professor Lupin’s offer, but knew he was working on his mother’s orders. He felt the need to thank, anyway, “Thank you, sir.”

Lupin nodded solemnly and left the Great Hall by its main doors. Nathan lowered his gaze to the untouched pie. He wanted to trust Professor Lupin, but… He truly had no one.

“I’ve seem you eat apple pie before. The problem is not the pie, is it?” Kevin asked him.

“I don’t want to eat the stupid pie! Can’t I have a no-pie day?!” Nathan spat, angered with his parents again, but having only Kevin on whom to release his frustration.

“Okay, okay!” Kevin retreated away from him. “Don’t eat the pie.” 

Nathan took a fork and stabbed the offending pie. He didn’t care about his friends flinch; he only needed a time for himself.

After Nathan left the Great Hall, Josephina turned to Andy and asked, “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know, Jose. He’s been like that since he came back from spending some time with his mother,” Andy answered.

“Maybe we should go after him…” she suggested.

“Good luck!” Kevin said.

Jose was looking recriminatory to Kevin. “Was that why Harry Potter was here yesterday?” she asked, then. “He’s Nathan godfather, isn’t he?”

“Maybe,” Kevin answered, furrowing his brows. “I think something is wrong, but he’s not telling us.”

“Do you think it has to do with Malfoy? Harry Potter was talking with him about it yesterday, remember?” Andy suggested.

“Yes, you might be right, but why wouldn’t he tell us, then?” Kevin countered.

Andy shrugged. Jose stayed silent for a while, but soon turned to talk about something else with the other girls. Kevin was puzzled, but was brought back from his musings by a discussion of the latest Professional Quidditch results.

Nathan went to the library. It was quiet, only a few older students there, most Ravenclaws. He chose a secluded table in a dark corner and sat holding his head in his hands, elbows leant on the table top. _They can’t get to me like this!_ Nathan berated himself. How would he get his life back to normal if he couldn’t ignore his parents? And Professor Snape wasn’t even there! Nathan cuffed the table in frustration drawing curious looks from the others in the library. He scowled at them, but then sighed. _Damn!_

It was harder than Nathan expected, but he would succeed. He didn’t need them and he would live his life very well without them. He just needed to try harder. Nathan had a whole afternoon to ignore his parents and be only himself, with his classes and friends. He stood and walked determined out of the library, ready to face a Troll, or so he thought.

The afternoon classes went by uneventfully for him. His problems resurfaced when he arrived in the Great Hall for dinner. He was there – his father. Nathan couldn’t go in. He wasn’t looking, but he knew Professor Snape was staring at him. He had to go. 

“I… forgot something in the classroom. I’ll go to the library after that, I’ll talk to you later,” Nathan hurriedly told his friends, and not leaving room for questions, left the way he’d come.

Two flights of stairs later, he stopped, breathing heavily. “What’s wrong with me?” he muttered. As much as he was chastising himself, Nathan didn’t go back to the Great Hall that evening.

The morning after, he woke up with a new resolve. He would take breakfast no matter who was in the Great Hall. He didn’t sleep well, he was hungry and he wouldn’t have any staring bat to make his day any worse! 

Nathan smiled when he didn’t find any bats in the hall. _Great! Better yet!_ He was in the middle of his breakfast when the overgrown bat arrived through a side door. They locked eyes when Snape stopped on his way to his seat. Nathan gulped his juice with difficulty. The moment passed in seconds, but it had seemed hours for Nathan. Feeling a crushing force in his chest, Nathan stood. Snape didn’t take his eyes off of him. The crushing increased and Nathan had to leave the Great Hall for air. 

Severus watched Nathan leave, sighing and finally getting to his seat. The boy was still running from him, proving to be as unpredictable as Severus thought. Who would have thought a Gryffindor, one of the only in his teaching history to never fear him, would be fleeing from the Great Hall upon seeing him? His son, a coward? He knew Nathan wasn’t a coward, but… 

Severus’ reasoning was interrupted by the Owl Post. To be more specific, by the letter one of the owls dropped in his scrambled eggs. Severus rolled his eyes when he noticed the sender.

_**Dear Severus,** _

_**How are things at Hogwarts? I hope you have spoken with Nathan and that he’s feeling better. Please send me some news.** _

_**Sincerely,  
Hermione Granger** _

_How can I speak with the boy if he’s running from me?_ And she would be at Hogwarts by that afternoon; she could assess the situation herself then! Severus crumpled the letter without a second thought. He knew he had lost his mind when he’d agreed to join her crazy plan. But the truth was that Severus wanted to talk with Nathan, he just didn’t know how.

Severus shooed the owl that had been surely waiting to take a reply he wouldn’t be writing. He looked back to his plate to find his meal was spread all over and ruined. Muttering under his breath, he left the Great Hall for another morning of classes. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with dunderheads in the afternoon.

During class, Severus had decided he wouldn’t show up for lunch in the Great Hall. He had told himself it was because he didn’t want to face people after the class he had had, but if he would be honest, he knew the reason was other: Severus didn’t want to disturb his son with his presence.

Choosing to spend the afternoon in his lab, he summoned a house-elf and ordered a sandwich and tea. Severus was going through some notes of research when Granger arrived later that day.

“Why didn’t you answer my letter?” she asked, skipping her customary polite _good afternoon_.

“Why answer a letter if you would be here to ask me in person?” Severus answered.

She took a deep breath. “Did you talk to him?”

He looked at her, contemplating his options, then lowered his head to resume his notes. “I didn’t.”

The light was blocked by her body standing right in front of his desk then. He didn’t give her his attention, but it became impossible to avoid her when she crouched and came face level with him, holding the edges of the desktop. 

“Don’t wait too long, Severus. He won’t come to you. I told you he wouldn’t make it easy for us.” Her voice was soft, etched with sadness.

Severus rested his kill on his desk and faced Granger. “I’m already doing this against my will. Don’t push me.”

“I didn’t want things to get to this, either. I’m not pushing-” He narrowed his eyes, cutting off her words. “Okay, so I am pushing, but we don’t have time, Severus.” His eyes gained more force of reprimand to her words. “Don’t look at me like that! You messed up this time, you fix it! It doesn’t matter what you want anymore, don’t you see? You said you were his father, now you are.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do, woman!” he spat back.

She stood in front of his desk. “Then _you_ tell me what you can and cannot do, Severus.”

“I can’t approach someone who’s not ready to face me, without blowing your _perfect_ plan! I can’t be someone I’m not from night to day just because you are deluded! I can’t fix _your_ mistakes!”

“And what you _can_ do, Severus?” Her voice was strong, but not harsh. 

Silence followed that question, but her eyes kept speaking, strong, incisive, boring into his. He could hex her into next week. He could expel her from his lab. He could ignore she ever came into his life. He could, but he wouldn’t. And he didn’t have to, because she chose to leave on her own. _Perfect!_ he thought sarcastically.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan spent all weekend in his dormitory. He didn’t want to accidentally run into his mother in the halls or in the library. He didn’t even want to be occasionally found in the common room, if any of them dared to come looking for him there. Yes, them, because Professors Lupin and Snape were on his avoidance list as well. If he was to be true to himself, he would have to admit that even his friends were making him uneasy these days. It was as if everyone was looking at him and seeing Snape written on his forehead. Nathan knew they were not, but… He could see it every time he looked in the mirror or in a window reflecting him, like now.

He turned from the window and went back to his bed. Books were keeping him busy this weekend. It was almost over; almost lunch time on this boring Sunday. He was frequenting the Great Hall for the meals, but he only entered when he was sure none of _them_ were there. He had to wait during last night’s dinner until his mother left, but the other meals were uneventful.

He heard laughs. The other boys were coming to the dormitory.

“…and didn’t do anything! Imagine Professor Flitwick, running with those tiny legs of his, and saying: ‘Don’t touch the furry thing! Don’t touch the furry thing!’” Malcolm Lesner squeaked in an imitation of Professor Flitwick. All the boys laughed. “It was just too funny!” Malcolm added.

“Layla was lucky,” Kevin commented. “Can you think of what Snape would do if she made a mistake like that in Potions?”

Various demonstration of sorrow followed that statement and they turned serious at once. Nathan observed the boys with the corner of his eyes while pretending to read his book. 

Andy decided to lighten up a bit. “You’re destroying my classroom you stupid girl! A hundred point from Gryffindor!” he said, trying but failing to imitate the Potions master. The boys chuckled at that.

“You forgot the eyebrow,” Kevin said, and repeated Andy’s phrase complete with an exaggeration of eyebrow movements. Everybody laughed at that.

Well, not everybody. Nathan didn’t laugh. In fact, he was very serious and concentrated in not calling their attention to him. And failed.

“Nathan does it much better!” Kevin pointed out. “Show them, Nathan.”

All present turned to Nathan, waiting. Nathan stared at his book, not knowing what to do. Well, what he knew was that he would definitely not be imitating his father. No way!

“Not now, Kevin. I’m trying to study here,” he said, and pretended to be concentrated in the reading.

Nathan could see out the corner of his eyes that they were looking at each other. He could even hear some of them commenting on something, but he didn’t take his eyes from the book.

The movement in the room soon ceased when most of the boys went back downstairs. In the dormitory with Nathan remained only Andy and Kevin.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kevin asked in an accusatory tone. “Can’t you joke anymore? Where is Nathan, and what have you done with him?”

Nathan sighed, finally deviating his gaze from the book. “I’m not in the mood for jokes, all right? I’m sorry if people trying to study in a school bother you,” he said harsher than he had intended. Nathan couldn’t bring himself to look at his friends after that. 

“I don’t think we’re wanted here, Andy. Let’s not disturb the genius,” Kevin said, tugging at Andy’s robes, pulling him to the door. Andy resisted, but finally gave in. 

As soon as he was alone again, Nathan closed the book and threw it to the foot of the bed. He wanted to pretend nothing had changed. He wanted, but couldn’t. What would happen when his friends found out? And he still had to go to Potions class… Tomorrow was his first class after what he’d heard in Snape’s office, and he didn’t know what to expect.

He decided not to think of it right now, and prepared to go down to the Great Hall for lunch. It was still in the middle of lunch time when he reached the top of the last flight of marble stairs that lead to the Entrance Hall. And he stopped. At the main doors of the Great Hall stood his mother, and she’d seen him.

Nathan contemplated turning back to Gryffindor Tower, but when she didn’t come in his direction right away, he was at a loss for what to do, of what to think. He then decided that if she didn’t talk to him, he didn’t need to talk to her, either. As if Hermione wasn’t there, Nathan resumed making his way to the Great Hall. 

When he arrived at the Entrance Hall level, he heard, “Nathan.” He ignored it and kept walking, ignoring his mother. Nathan never looked away from his goal, the Gryffindor table, and only knew Hermione hadn’t followed him when he was seated. He relaxed his shoulders and sighed. Chicken pie was the only thing he wanted to think about right now.

~o0oOo0o~

Monday morning arrived, and Nathan could see the first rays of light invading the room. He hadn’t slept at all. Not even the nice afternoon he had spent the day before had taken his mind off the class he had this morning. Yes, after what he’d called a successful encounter with his mother in the Entrance Hall, Nathan had regained some of his freedom back and had joined the other Gryffindors in the common room the afternoon before. He didn’t think Professor Snape would come after him in his common room, although he’d done that in the past.

But nothing that had passed the day before mattered now. Not when he would be the one going to Professor Snape’s encounter now, and not the other way around. What would Snape do? What would Snape say? How could he face the man? Nathan didn’t know and wasn’t much interested in finding out.

The room was brighter now. The more the time passed, the less Nathan knew what to do. The first of his roommates stirred in slumber, awakening for the day that had started. More movement. Voices. Nathan didn’t move, though. He could see through the gap of his curtain that some of his roommates were up and dressing for the day. _I can do this_. He rose from the bed and started dressing in his uniform as he did every week day. _I’m a Gryffindor. I can do this_. 

He entered the bathroom. All that was left of his morning rituals was brush his hair and teeth, and he would have nothing else to do to postpone breakfast and class with his father. He felt a flutter in his stomach when he tasted the toothpaste. He spent more time than usual washing his mouth and face, and when Nathan finally faced himself in the mirror, he couldn’t hold his dinner in his stomach anymore. He ran to a toilet.

Nathan didn’t hear Andy come in. He was still concentrating on breathing, wanting the nausea to go away. 

“Nathan?” Andy called. “Are you ill?”

Nathan was about to answer when another surge of nausea took him. 

“I’ll call Cornwell,” Andy said, and after minutes he was back with the Head Boy.

“What are you feeling, Mr. Granger?” the older boy asked.

“Nausea,” Nathan managed between quick breaths.

“What class do you have this morning?” Nathan heard the boy ask. 

“Potions,” Andy answered.

“Professor Snape won’t believe you are ill,” the Head Boy told him, and Nathan lost control of his stomach again. “Go for Professor Lupin.” It was a command to Andy, who left right away.

Nathan sat, eyes closed, resting on the wall next to the toiled when his Head of House arrived.

“He’s really ill, sir,” Cornwell informed the professor.

“Thank you, Michael,” Professor Lupin dismissed the Head Boy. 

Nathan didn’t open his eyes; the flutter in his stomach was still there. He felt a cool hand touch his forehead. 

“Do you know what made you sick?” Lupin asked.

Nathan slowly shook his head no. Soon he felt the tingling of magic hitting his body; Professor Lupin was casting some charm on him. Nathan sighed when his stomach settled, feeling calmer than he’d been in a long time. He enjoyed the feeling for a while and then opened his eyes to find Professor Lupin studying him, as if contemplating what to do with him.

“Better?” Lupin asked.

“Yes, thank you.”

Professor Lupin offered his hand and Nathan took it. His Head of House helped him stand, waited while he washed his mouth and followed him out the bathroom. “Do you think you can go to Potions?”

Nathan stopped, turned and was back inside the bathroom in an instant. His body ignored the fact that there was nothing else left in his stomach. Professor Lupin conjured a towel and offered it to him, and Nathan accepted without a word. When he had calmed a little, Professor Lupin spoke again, “I know it must be hard for you, Nathan, but you can’t avoid your father much longer.” 

Nathan focused on the wall across from him. Why was this happening with him? Why did it have to be so hard?

“Even if you could keep avoiding him, he’s a professor here,” Professor Lupin continued. “What would you do? Would you drop Potions?” 

Nathan looked at his Head of House with hopeful, pleading eyes. 

“No, you can’t drop Potions,” Lupin said, frowning at Nathan. “Why are you avoiding him in the first place is what I might ask. I thought you wanted to know who your father was, to meet him, to talk with him. Am I mistaken?”

“No, you’re not,” Nathan answered in a mumble.

“Then what are you waiting for?” the professor persisted.

“I don’t want any of that anymore,” he answered and took a deep breath.

“Are you feeling better?” Professor Lupin asked. “Do you think it’s safe to leave the bathroom? It’s not my favorite place to chat…” Lupin teased.

Nathan took another deep breath before nodding he was feeling better. They left for the dormitory, where they sat on Nathan’s bed. Professor Lupin was again staring at him in a most uncomfortable way. Nathan shifted on his bed.

“Why are you avoiding your father, Nathan?” his teacher asked once again.

Those brown eyes were relentless on him, and Nathan felt obliged to answer. “I’m not really avoiding him,” he said and knew he was being ridiculous the moment it left his mouth. He kept quiet then, not wanting to make things even worse.

“What if Severus came here looking for you? What would you do then?” Lupin asked.

Nathan finally looked at his teachers face. “He won’t come.” It was a wish he would like to remain true.

“Why do you think he won’t?”

And Nathan was again faced with the _truths_ he’s been building since the day he found out Professor Snape was his father. He wouldn’t look for him because he didn’t care at all for him. “Professor Snape won’t come after me, because…” It hurt to think of that again, and it would hurt even more to admit it aloud. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me, sir.” The knife that had been lodged in his chest since he found out, twisted.

“How can you know that?” Lupin insisted.

“I’ve spent a month of detentions with him, sir. I know.” Nathan didn’t want to discuss that. He didn’t want Professor Lupin to come with any excuse of the sort he knew his mother would come up with.

“I’ve known Severus since we were your age,” Professor Lupin started. “He cares for you as I dare say he never cared for anyone before. It might not be evident. As I’ve told you, he’s not an easy man to deal with, and he’s far too complicated for simple understanding. Whatever has passed during that month of detentions, it might not be what it seems.”

Nathan was skeptically listening to his professor’s opinion. No one knew what had passed with his father during those detentions.

“Wouldn’t it be better to actually ask him, to actually hear from him what he thinks of you? I can’t believe you are afraid of doing that, because you’re the Gryffindor in charge,” his Head of House told him, inclining his head to convey his utter disbelief in Nathan not being courageous enough to do so. “Maybe you should try. Maybe Severus will surprise you; he’s done this before.” Lupin smiled at him. 

“I won’t make you go to Potions today, but don’t expect to be excused next week,” the teacher added more seriously. “Don’t think of what could go wrong, when there is so much that can go well.” Lupin stood. “I’ll see you in class.” And with that, he left Nathan with a lot to think about.

~o0oOo0o~

Even with Remus words, Nathan was still avoiding Severus the whole week, never looking his way, always avoiding the dungeons so as not to cross with him in the halls, although he could feel those cold eyes on him whenever they were in the same room. At least he had convinced himself that he would go to Potions class no matter what. It wasn’t as if he had any other choice, but he wouldn’t let Snape turn this into a nightmare. 

The same went for his mother, especially after the letter he’d gotten from his godfather. The library was a place he liked to visit, and he wouldn’t stop going there on weekends because of her. She had caught him in there on Saturday morning; it had been awkward, but Nathan had managed to dismiss her attempts in talking with him.

Faith renewed in his strength, Nathan left the Great Hall for his very first encounter with his now known father. He entered the Potions classroom as if nothing was amiss, taking his usual place in the front row. Nathan was very confident, until the Potions master entered the room through the door. Nathan didn’t look his way. He caught his breath and stared at the stained workbench.

“Open your books to page two hundred and ten,” Professor Snape said and started lecturing as he usually did.

Nathan couldn’t place the empty feeling that normal behavior brought to him. He had put so much expectation into this encounter that he was somewhat disappointed with the man’s ability to act as if nothing had changed. As the class progressed, Nathan’s confused frustration built into displeasure and hatred for his father’s apparent indifference.

Nathan’s anger with the man only grew when they were set to brew the day’s potion. There was no grace in Nathan’s movements while he chopped and sliced and grinded. He mechanically followed the recipe, not even thinking about why he was actually putting all those roots and animal pieces together in a cauldron.

Severus was walking between the aisles, commenting on the procedures of every student like he did every class. He was also taking points when necessary. He didn’t want Nathan to feel things would be different now that he knew Severus was his father. He was the same professor that he met in the first class, who his mother had met in her first class. That wouldn’t change.

Nothing had gone amiss up until now. Severus had not asked him any direct questions, and Nathan hadn’t volunteered to answer any of them either, what Severus thought was consistent with the ignoring game the boy had been playing since that evening. He was almost at Nathan’s cauldron now. “The potion won’t stir itself, Miss Parks,” he commented to the girl now frantically stirring her cauldron’s contents, and continued to the first row of students, stopping behind his son.

Severus immediately noticed the lack of care Nathan had used in the preparation of the ingredients sitting all mixed on a corner of the workbench. The boy sliced the root with an unnecessary force, taking uneven chunks of it and not caring about it. Severus peered inside the cauldron, still silent. Its content was a horrid brownish color, as he’d presumed. 

“What color was the potion supposed to be at this point of the brew, Mr. Granger?”

“Light yellow, _sir_.” 

Of course his son knew that, and the correct answer didn’t surprise him, although the tone in his address had called his attention.

“And what color is yours?” Severus asked then.

“You can see for yourself, _sir_ ,” Nathan answered without taking his eyes from the roots he was dilacerating.

Severus bypassed the workbench to stand in front of him. “Five points from Gryffindor. What color is your potion, Mr. Granger?” he asked again.

Nathan looked inside the cauldron. “Brownish, I think, but you knew that already, sir,” the boy said, and as if nothing was happening, took a bunch of dilacerated root and threw in his cauldron, making the mix hiss. When he was about to throw a whole salamander tail in it, Severus held his hand. Nathan finally looked at him, pure anger firing from those deep black eyes.

The whole class was pretending to work while observing the exchange.

“What will happen if I let you add this to that _soup_ you’re making?” Severus inquired holding his son’s eyes and hand. 

“Let’s find out,” Nathan said, forcing his hand towards the cauldron. 

Severus held him firmly. “I won’t let you blow my classroom up just because you feel like it.” He took his wand from his robes and _Evanesco’ed_ the cauldron’s contents. “Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Granger, and you failed this assignment,” he added in a hiss, finally releasing his son’s wrist. “I want an essay on the possible reactions these ingredients can produce if mixed improperly, on my desk, by the end of this class.”

Severus scolded the other students, who more than quickly went back to work. _What is he playing at?_ he thought when settling on his desk again. _He would really explode the cauldron_. That was a disturbing thought, especially when Severus knew his son was completely aware of that. _Vengeance?_ It was a possibility. Severus observed Nathan scribing with a concern he didn’t show in his face.

Sooner than Severus expected, Nathan was in front of his desk, handing over a piece of parchment and turning back to grab his things and leave. 

“You’re not excused from this class yet, Mr. Granger,” he told him. “Sit down.”

Nathan looked enraged, but he didn’t need to be told twice. Severus looked at the parchment in his desk. It was far from being a proper essay. All it contained were lines of ingredient x plus ingredient y equals something. They were all correct, but that was not the point. This was another affront to Severus’ command. 

The class was over and Severus had reached to a decision. “You’re dismissed,” he said, but added, “Not you, Mr. Granger.” 

Soon they were the only ones in the classroom. Severus approached his son, who was deliberately not looking at him. “I don’t know what you expected to achieve with such behavior, but rest assure you that it will not be tolerated.”

Nathan didn’t react. Severus placed his hands on the workbench. “If I had let you drop that salamander tail inside the cauldron, I, you and several of your little friends would be in the Hospital Wing now, but I believe you haven’t thought of that.” He made a pause to let that sink in Nathan’s head. “Of course you haven’t, everyone’s safety is not your concern, but mine.”

Nathan was refusing to look at him. It was unnerving. “Look at me,” Severus commanded. Nathan didn’t move his head, but his eyes shifted to meet Severus’. “Ignore me as you please, be as mad as you want, but don’t try to explode a cauldron in my class.” Severus’ voice was dangerously low. Nathan had his mouth in a thin line. “Now, go. You’re already late.”

Nathan took his things, stood, and before turning to leave, he said, “What do you care?”

Severus watched the boy hurriedly leaving. _Apparently more than I should_ , Severus answered to himself.

~o0oOo0o~

Each day that passed, the tension between father and son grew. Severus was being charged not only by Nathan’s foul behaviors, but also by Granger’s daily letters. The third weekend after his slip of the tongue approached, and the only words he’d spoken with his son were those exchanged in class.

At least one thing had changed after that day; Nathan now wasn’t ignoring him like before. No, they didn’t talk, but they could be seen in the same room, especially in the Great Hall for meals, such as now. Severus had made a matter of power struggle to pass by the Gryffindor table on his way out of the room every meal. He wanted to make sure Nathan knew he was being watched, that he was around.

The first time he’d done that, he felt Nathan’s stillness. The following times, he could only feel the anger his son directed at him. Today, though…

When Nathan saw that Professor Snape was leaving his seat, he stood as well. That new routine of passing by the Gryffindor table every time Professor Snape left the Great Hall was unnerving Nathan to no end. But Nathan had had enough of that dance, and today he would pay back.

Nathan’s friends stood with him; they went to the main doors and were almost there when Nathan felt his father was close enough to hear what he would say. “I have something to tell you,” he told his friends. “I found out who my father is.”

“You did!” Andy exclaimed.

Nathan could see with the corner of his eyes that he had his father’s full attention. “I did,” he nodded. “But unfortunately, he’s dead.” His friends lamented the news as he’d expected, and he added, “It’s okay, really. It’s not as if my life would change much if he were not. He was just a nobody.” 

And the reaction it brought to the Potions master, Nathan hadn’t predicted. In seconds he was being grabbed by an arm. “This is just silly! Stop this nonsense right now,” his father hissed. 

“Or what?” Nathan asked back. “What will you do?” he defied.

“You can’t talk to me like that, boy! I’ve lost my patience with your little hide and seek game, and I won’t tolerate more of your disrespect!”

“As if I owe you any respect! You mocked me every time I entered your classroom, watching me make a fool of myself. You could have told me, but all you did was to treat me like a stupid dunderhead!”

“Then give me a reason not to treat you like one! Ten points from Gryffindor!” Snape growled.

“Take ten, take a hundred, take how many bloody points you want! I don’t care!” Nathan’s voice was loud enough to call the attention of the whole school. “You are the monster everyone says you are! I will never respect you! I hate you!” Nathan growled. “I HATE YOU! Let me go!” he bellowed and pulled his arm free.

Severus released his son, eyes lost in the expression of true hatred in Nathan’s face even after his son had left running. He just stood there, Nathan’s words hurting his shattered soul. He felt a hand on his elbow, and for a ghost of a moment he wished it was Granger’s and not Minerva’s. 

“Professor Snape, what has just happened here?” The seriousness in the Headmistress tone brought him back to his brooding, scolding persona, and Severus realized all the eyes on him.

“It’s a long story, Headmistress. If you’ll excuse me,” he told her, leaving the Great Hall. 

Minerva followed. “Professor Snape,” she called. He stopped, annoyed. “I want to know what is happening right now.” She was using her classroom tone with him. “I’ll be waiting in my office,” she told him and left.

Severus felt someone approaching coming from the Great Hall. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say, Lupin,” he dismissed, not even turning to face his colleague, his presence only building in Severus’ irritation.

“I’ll take care of Nathan,” the werewolf told him nonetheless and left for the stairs. 

Severus sighed and followed Minerva’s path.

~o0oOo0o~

“You’re telling me that Hermione… that she… with Snape?! This is just gross!” Ron exclaimed in his outrage to Harry’s news.

“Say it louder! I don’t think the passing Muggles heard you!” Harry admonished.

Ron was still astounded. “She dated me! Why would she want to go out with Snape?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Ron, that’s not the point. I’m worried about Nathan here.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. It’s just that… It’s Snape. Poor Nathan, he didn’t deserve being related to that bat!”

“Yes, and Hermione wants them to interact. We can’t let Snape have any influence in Nathan’s life. Hermione is just deluded if she thinks I’ll sit and watch just because Snape is Nathan’s father,” Harry commented. “She came to my house to tell me to leave it to her and Snape. I think she really believes Snape is capable of being a good father!”

“She told you that?” Ron asked incredulous.

“She was really out of herself when I told her Snape wasn’t capable of caring for a rat.”

“But what can we do if she decides to bring Snape into Nathan’s life? I mean, Hermione is his mother and… and Snape is his father.” Ron contorted his face again. “I still can’t believe she was capable of that!”

“Well, there have to be a way to convince her. Nathan sent me a very disturbing letter. I showed it to her, and all she did was cry,” Harry’s tone was more lenient now. “I just want to help her see the mistake she’s making.”

“We’ll find something, mate,” Ron assured, patting in Harry’s shoulder.

They finished their drinks and left the Leaky Cauldron. 

But even after their departure, a quill scribed frantically, enchanted to take note of every said detail. A smug witch waited the quill with some impatience. “Maybe we can get the front page, my dear. Yes, definitely front page material.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I’ve created a monster! This chapter was huge! I hope it wasn’t boring. :0P
> 
>  **Coming next…** The news spreads and things get darker.


	22. Snape's Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The news spreads and things get darker. Well, not really. It depends on the point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA-READERS FOR THIS CHAPTER:** GinW and Indigofeathers – thank you very much!

Severus entered the Headmistress’ office, his fate pressing him once again. Minerva was at her desk, hands crossed in front of her, awaiting his explanation. He contemplated the armchairs facing the Headmistress’ desk, but decided he wouldn’t even need to take a seat, for what he had to say wouldn’t take long. Severus fixed his eyes on the stern witch.

“Nathan Granger is my son.” Severus registered the shock on Minerva’s face, but had decided not to be affected by the witch’s reactions. “He only recently found out and he doesn’t seem very happy with the fact, as you could see by his little display in the Great Hall.” 

“Hermione’s son?” Minerva rationalized, still shocked with what he’d thrown at her, although now she frowned so intensely that her eyebrows met. “It was you!”

“If by that you’re saying it was me who impregnated her, it was just what I told you, Minerva. The boy is my son. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have some things to do before the day is over.”

Severus turned to leave the office, but Minerva’s voice was firm, “Severus Snape, don’t you dare leave this office without explaining yourself properly!”

He turned to face her again. “I have nothing to explain. All you need to know, you now know. I’ll try to keep our _shows of affection_ in private in the future, so as not to disturb the school routine.”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of it like this! Severus, she was a girl! How could you… She was your student from the time she was eleven, for Merlin’s sake! A student!” 

Minerva was obviously disgusted with the idea, and he could totally agree with her. If the woman knew what the circumstances were, she would be horrified. Severus didn’t want to stay there, arguing with Minerva about raping a former student.

“Not the most horrifying thing I’ve done in my life,” he countered and couldn’t stop glancing in the direction of Dumbledore's portrait. “Now, if you don’t mind Minerva, there is nothing else that concerns you on this matter other than the unacceptable behavior of the boy. I’ve already told you I’ll try to keep this from happening again.” He turned to leave one more time.

“I can’t believe you,” Minerva said to his back. “You were not even decent enough to recognize the child as yours. You left her to take care of him on her own. A child taking care of another, Severus. Alone!”

He turned to face her at that. “Don’t talk about what you don’t know, Minerva. It was hardly my fault what that crazy woman decided to do!”

“And now you’re blaming her? So typical of you, Severus!” Minerva spat back at his accusation of her star pupil.

Severus had heard enough. He walked back the length he’d crossed on his way to the door and was again in front of the Headmistress’ long, solid wooden table. “You think all your Gryffindors are little angels, don’t you? They are incapable of making mistakes, either, aren't they? Well, I’ll give you some stark news, Minerva. She chose to raise that child alone, not me! She was foolish to hide him from me all this time and then decide it was a good idea to let the boy know! She, your precious know-it-all Gryffindor, Minerva, not me!”

The shock on her face was so foreign this time that some of Severus’ rage was abated and turned into a sick smugness. He smirked at the wordless witch. “I don’t think you were prepared to hear that your lovely Hermione Granger is not the perfect woman you all think her to be.”

“You didn’t know?” Minerva asked, still dazed with the revelations.

Severus’ smirk dissolved. “No, I didn’t, and now it’s too late for anything, isn’t it?”

Minerva seemed lost in thought, eyes focused on a point of the table. She finally looked back at him. “She told you when she was here after you found him in the forest.”

“No, Minerva. Erase the image you have of that supposedly responsible and strictly correct girl from your mind. She never told me, and I don’t think she would have anytime soon.” And before she could say anything, he added, “I found out on my own.”

“During detentions.” Minerva nodded to herself. “That was why you wanted to get them to be supervised by another teacher.” She was back to studying him again. “You were denying him,” she accused.

“I won’t discuss my actions with you, Minerva. What I do regarding the boy is my decision only,” was all he said to that. Severus was not stopped by the Headmistress on his way to the door this time, but by someone else.

“Severus,” called a voice from the wall.

Severus closed his eyes, his back to Minerva and the portraits. 

“What has Nathan decided?” Albus asked softly.

Not turning to face them, Severus said, “Minerva can answer that.” He continued on his way out of the office and was gone in a flare of robes.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan slept poorly another night. This was becoming a constant since he had found out Snape was his father, and it was tiring him. What he had thrown in the man’s face the day before was well deserved, he was certain of that, so why wasn’t he feeling good after such revenge? Why did every word of praise and every tap on his shoulder make him feel this odd sensation in his chest? Why was every word of Professor Lupin’s sermon the night before weighing on him, making him feel… guilty? Whatever the reason, it was bothering him.

When Nathan entered the Great Hall for breakfast, many eyes turned his way. He was expecting that. His friends were patting him on the shoulder again, supporting his triumphant entry after saying what many had dreamed of saying to the Potions master but had never got the nerve. His chest went tight when he realized even some Slytherins were watching him with respect, and went tighter yet when he found his father observing him from the Head Table. 

Averting his eyes quickly while being dragged along by his friends, Nathan was thankful when the subject left his enraged attack on the feared professor to go to more mundane matters. He could delight himself in a carved out moment of anonymity to try to calm the feelings that were invading him since he’d met his father’s unwavering eyes. He was so concentrated in not taking his own eyes from his plate that not even the flapping owls bringing the mail broke his concentration. But being invisible was rather impossible with someone calling his name.

“What is it?” he finally asked Andy after being called for the third time.

“You’re in the _Daily Prophet_ ,” Andy said, not taking his eyes off the newspaper.

“Am I?” That was totally unexpected. “Why?” 

Andy didn’t answer. 

Nathan insisted, “Why am I in the _Daily Prophet_?”

Nothing. Andy just stared at the parchment in him hands, frowning, seeming stunned.

“Let me see this!” Kevin said, grasping the _Prophet_ from Andy’s numb hands.

“What is it? What does it say?” Nathan inquired once more. He looked around and saw that others reading the paper were looking at him, and he didn’t like the way they were doing so, he didn’t like it at all! 

When he was about to take the newspaper from Kevin’s hands, the boy said, “You’re Snape’s son?” His friend was frowning much like Andy had been, only now, Nathan knew why.

“What?!” Nathan shrieked and took the offending parchment from Kevin. He couldn’t believe it! There it was, on front page, for everyone to see!

**_Father of War Hero’s Hidden Son Revealed._ **

Since the beginning of the school year, much has been said about war hero Hermione Granger’s heir, Hogwarts’ first-year Nathan Granger, and the connection of his birth to her departure from the wizarding world. It was speculated that the young boy was the offspring of an old childhood love of the Muggle-born witch, thus her choice to raise him among Muggles, or even that he could be an illegitimate son of none other than Harry Potter. However, it has been uncovered and confirmed by a trustworthy source that the father of this poor boy is known murderer of the great Albus Dumbledore, ex-Death Eater, Professor Severus Snape. 

This revealing news brings the whole mystery into a new light, and other possibilities as to why the brilliant witch left the wizarding world so many years ago arise. Shame? Fear? The secrecy of her son’s paternity, which, according to the same source, was kept for all these years even from her closest friends, seems to lead strongly to the veracity of these suppositions… 

Nathan didn’t need nor want to read more. All he needed to know was there, and the enormity of it was apparent in all those eyes on him. What would he do now? He searched for his father’s eyes, and found them on him like so many others. 

A voice got to him above the rising hubbub in the Great Hall. 

“The _Prophet_ is wrong, isn’t it?” There was undisguised hope in the way Kevin asked him that. “Snape is not your father. You told us your father was someone else,” he added dismissively.

Andy only stared at him, measuring, but his stare held pressure enough to make Nathan admit, with his silence, the truth the news brought. 

Kevin seemed to be waiting for an answer, though. “Nathan…”

“I-” Nathan glanced once more to the man at the Head Table then back to his plate. “He is,” he finally admitted for the few that could hear it. 

The moment was really awkward. _What will they say_? Nathan didn’t know… Maybe awkward wasn’t really making justice to the moment. It was oppressing. It felt like the Great Hall was going to close around him. 

“Snape?” Kevin asked again.

Nathan looked up. He tried another glance to the Head Table, but this time didn’t find who he was looking for. Nathan stood.

“Yes, Snape!” he spat and turned, walking to the door, his steps growing in speed with the volume of the voices in the Great Hall. 

He crossed the threshold, walked a few steps to the left and leant against the stone wall, closing his eyes. Nathan wanted to make his heart stop beating so fast. He exhaled heavily. Everybody knew who his father was, that Snape was his father. 

Nathan threw his head back to hit the wall a few times, only then did he open his eyes again. His father was across the hall, on the top of the stairs that led to the dungeons, looking intently at him. He stared back until the man turned and went down the stairs.

~o0oOo0o~

“Come in,” Hermione called the person knocking at her office’s door. She didn’t even lift her head to see who was entering, since she was expecting William. “I’m just finishing this,” she added, scribbling frantically in a notebook, having her free hand up to emphasize her need for some time to finish the note she was taking.

“Nice office for a Muggle institution.” 

Hermione froze on hearing that voice.

“Though, I would never believe someone who would tell me Hermione Granger had exchanged the glories of being a war-hero for the simplicity of this Muggle life, if I hadn’t have seen it with my own eyes,” the unexpected visitor added.

Hermione was torn between being surprised, angry and curious. What would that woman be doing here? “Those left in the wizarding world aren’t enough to satisfy your hunger for degradation and humiliation? Aren’t they good material for your sick creativity? What do you want here?” 

“A reporter goes where the news is,” the woman said, clearly enjoying Hermione’s distress. “I thought you might want to concede me an exclusive.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Hermione asked, outraged with the woman’s blatant cynicism. “I’ll never concede an interview to you, Skeeter! I don’t even know how you found me. You’re definitely not welcome here.”

“Your record was updated with the Ministry of Magic when your son started at Hogwarts, as I’m sure you know,” Rita told her conversationally while scanning the room. “By the way, my readers would love to know more about him. We should do a joint interview with you both."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at that, rising from her seat and reaching for her wand just when William arrived. With a Muggle in the room, Hermione would have to swallow the hex intended for Skeeter. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company,” William apologized. “You can look for me in my office when you’re free. Excuse me.”

He was turning to leave when Hermione, eyes never leaving Skeeter, hurriedly said, “There is no need for that, Professor Brice. She was taking her leave.”

Rita made little of Hermione’s glare and turned her attention to William, measuring him up in appraisal. “I see you’re busy,” she told Hermione still looking at William. She took some rolled parchments from her purse and offered them to Hermione. “You know where to find me if you change your mind. I hope to see you and that lovely boy of yours soon.”

Hermione took the offered parchments just to make her go away faster. She watched the reporter exit the room after another speculative examination of William. Hermione wished she could hex the woman and tell her not to even try to get to Nathan, but she couldn’t do that without having to Obliviate William next.

“Who was that woman?” he asked as soon as they were alone in her office. 

“Only someone I would rather not have seen today,” she dismissed his question. She was obviously still affected by Skeeter’s visit, and William’s presence, although welcomed to help her get rid of the intruder moments ago, was now restraining her need to curse the woman or even hex something.

“Are you all right, Hermione?”

She sighed. “I’ll be fine, Will. There is no need to worry.” Hermione forced a smile to reassure him. “You can go ahead and start the discussion with Miss Jensen. I’ll join you in a few.” She tried the smile again.

William looked at her for a short while before nodding and reluctantly leaving her office. For that, Hermione was grateful. She needed some time to calm herself properly and also understand why that _bug_ came to see her. Hermione wasn’t about to be fooled by that interview request. No, even Skeeter knew Hermione wouldn’t be granting her with any interview, never. _What did she want, then? Threaten me through Nathan?_

That was when Hermione remembered the bunch of parchments she was crushing. She quickly flattened the newspaper and, when the front-page news hit her, Hermione gasped, feeling helpless and hurt for Nathan and even more enraged with Skeeter. She reread the printed news of her most guarded secret, and although tears escaped her eyes in sadness, Hermione profaned the low woman and her _trustworthy source_. 

More tears spilled from her eyes, but she wiped at them angrily. _It is not the time for this, Hermione!_ she admonished herself. She had to be whole to fix what that woman had done. It was highly frustrating to see everything she’d planned ruined with only a few printed words. This wouldn’t be such a disaster if Nathan and Severus had grown closer already, but at this moment, when so much was yet to be sorted out…

She sat by her desk and stared at it. There was nothing she could do now, this last blow to her plans was definitely final. Hermione was trying to gauge the extent of the consequences. No, she didn’t care for her reputation, for what people would say about her. Hermione was worried this would make Severus withdraw from them, that it would turn Nathan into a target for gossips he would not be ready to deal with, or worse yet, of labels he wouldn’t want to fight off. Having Nathan agree he was the son of a murderer would never do!

Hermione nervously contemplated her next move. Her wait was definitely over, she begrudgingly acknowledged. If the time she’d given them hadn’t been enough for them to grow close, to accept their parts in each other’s lives in a natural way, she would have to make them do it now regardless. Hermione would make this family work for Nathan’s sake, she would bring those two together, she would make her friends accept the facts, and they won’t need to dread gossips, ill-intended news, or anything of the sort ever again.

With that in mind, Hermione cleaned her face from the last tears and walked out of her office to meet William. She would visit Harry later in the day and would have everything settled for when she got to Hogwarts tomorrow. No caution needed now that everything was in the open, she was on the offensive and would bring things to their proper place, or her name wasn’t Hermione Granger.

~o0oOo0o~

“Lily, it’s my turn to tip the owl!” Sirius Potter whined, annoyed with his older sister. “Dad!”

“Lily, you know Thursdays are Sirius’ turn to get the newspaper,” Harry admonished.

“The owl is getting upset, Dad. He’s taking too long to tip it,” the girl defended herself. 

“Sirius, give the coins to the owl,” Harry said.

“Yes, Dad,” the boy agreed dispirited, petting the annoyed owl a couple of times more before paying for the day’s issue of the _Daily Prophet_.

Harry took the rolled newspaper while Dobby poured him some coffee. 

“You can help me feed the owls later, but only if you eat the fruit,” Ginny told her son, who seemed to cheer up enough to oblige.

The Potter’s breakfast progressed as usual until Harry exclaimed, “Holy crap!”

Sirius giggled at his father’s swearing. 

“Harry…” Ginny cautioned her husband before he would say something worse. 

When Harry folded the _Prophet_ and made to throw it across the room, Ginny grew worried. He kept the newspaper, but swore again, “Damn!” 

Sirius giggled again.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” his wife asked.

“Nosy witch who can’t see happiness… Why can’t they leave people alone for a change?” Harry pushed his plate away, too annoyed to eat.

“What did Skeeter do?” Ginny knew the beetle too well after so many years on the social spot not to know that what was upsetting her husband was her doing.

Harry sighed.

“Are you in the newspaper again, Dad?” Lily asked.

“Not really, Lily. Don’t worry and eat your breakfast,” he told his daughter before leaving the table for the house library, taking the offending parchment with him.

Ginny sighed. “Dobby, prepare some toast and a cup of coffee on a tray for me, please.”

“Yes, Dobby do, Mistress.”

“Mum, why Dad won’t eat at the table? I want to eat in the library, too,” Sirius protested.

“When you grow up, but for now you eat at the table.”

Dobby popped into the room with the tray she’d asked for. 

“Thank you, Dobby. Keep an eye on the children, please.” She took the tray and left for the library. She entered the room without announcing her intrusion and placed the tray on a corner of a desk. Ginny then approached her husband, reaching out a hand to his shoulder while he stared out the window. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

Ginny accepted the newspaper he was offering her. Upon scanning the front page, she understood his reactions and was astounded herself. “So it was Snape!”

Harry didn’t react to her exclamation. Ginny looked at him more closely.

“You’re not thinking of confronting Snape about this, are you? Because it’s not your business, Harry. Don’t do anything without talking to-”

“Hermione, I know,” he completed, annoyed and feeling guilty with his wife’s first impulse to remind him not to interfere after reading the news.

“I’m just saying this because I know how you feel about Snape. Nathan is very dear to us, and I know you’re not happy to find out that Hermione… well, that he’s a Snape. I’m just asking you to calm yourself before doing anything.”

Harry rubbed his forehead. “I don’t need to calm down, Ginny. I already knew Nathan was…” He closed his eyes and sighed. 

Ginny was perplexed. “You knew and you didn’t tell me!” She accused her husband. “How could you hide something like that from me?!”

“Now _you_ calm down, Ginny. I was going to tell you. I only recently found out and just didn’t have the opportunity yet.”

“Didn’t have the opportunity? Who are you trying to fool, Harry?” Ginny never liked to be left out of anything. “How long have you been hiding this from me?”

“Don’t make a drama out of this, Ginny. Snape told me when I saw him last, but Hermione didn’t want the news out.”

“But I’m your wife!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not as if I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“Wait a minute, Snape told you?” Ginny was starting to see past the fact her husband was keeping secrets from her. “You were sticking your nose where you shouldn’t, weren’t you? When will you learn, Harry?”

“Damn it!” he swore to himself. 

“What are you not telling me?” Ginny asked, knowing her husband too well.

“I didn’t want the whole wizarding world to know it like this.” He pointed the newspaper in her hands. “I was just trying to help Nathan, to make Hermione see she was making a mistake. Now…”

“You told Skeeter?!” Ginny asked, wide-eyed. 

“No!” he answered, but then sighed, lowering his voice to add, “But I think she heard me talking about it, by what she wrote.” Harry took the offending newspaper she was waving at him and threw it in an empty armchair.

“Harry,” Ginny was going to complete her lament, but seeing his annoyance and knowing it was with himself, she only approached him and reached out a hand in comfort, squeezing his shoulder.

“I was just trying to help him. I’m his godfather, it’s my job to protect him, and look what I’ve done. Now all his friends and teachers know he’s related to Snape and it’s all my fault.”

Ginny just listened, still too mad at him to disagree with his self-accusation. After some silence, she asked, “What were you trying to help Nathan with?”

“Hermione thinks it’s a good idea to bring Snape into Nathan’s life. I can’t let that happen.”

Ginny stopped her caress of his shoulder and stepped away from him. Harry turned to face her, trying to understand why. 

“You’re trying to separate father and son? Is that what you’re telling me?”

No, that was not what he was doing. He was protecting Nathan from Snape, which was completely different in Harry’s point of view. _Can no one understand it?_

“You, who never had the opportunity to know your parents, are making an effort to take that opportunity from Nathan?” she added.

He was not taking anyone’s opportunity of anything! Or was he? All he was doing was trying to keep Snape from interfering in Nathan’s life…

…thus taking the opportunity of Nathan to know his father. Harry was shocked to understand that Ginny was right. _What was I thinking?_

“I can see you understand what a stupid idiot you are for even thinking of doing such thing,” Ginny added, interpreting his expression right.

He sank down into an armchair, ignoring the rustle of crumpled parchment, taking his head in his hands. “All I could think was that I should protect Nathan from Snape. You know what I think of Snape, and that won’t change. I just…” Harry was still upset with the notion. “I didn’t think I was in fact taking away Nathan’s chance to meet his father, I wouldn’t want that.”

Ginny sat on an arm of the chair and pressed a kiss over Harry’s head, fondling his hair. “I’m glad you can see this now. I hope it’s not too late for you to fix whatever foolish thing you’ve done already.” 

Harry looked at the woman he loved with reverence; she was really special. In a quick move, Harry brought Ginny to his lap and kissed her deeply. “What would I do without you?” He smiled at her. 

But the smile dissolved when he yelped and rubbed his arm where she’d just hit him. 

She stood from his lap and glared at him. “That’s for hiding things from me, Harry James Potter.” Ginny was at the door, leaving, when she turned to remind him, pointing the tray on the desk, “Eat the toast before leaving for the Ministry.”

~o0oOo0o~

After a disastrous breakfast, a morning spent mostly in silence and ignoring the staring of his classmates, Nathan truly expected to meet his mother at lunch. Although it wasn’t even Friday yet, he thought she would have come after reading the newspaper. It would have been nice to have her here. Even though he was not on speaking terms with her at the moment, Nathan missed her nonetheless, now more than ever. 

The afternoon classes passed mostly like the morning ones. His best friends were not avoiding him, but they weren’t acting as usual, either. They rarely asked him something and didn’t include him in their conversations. It was clear to Nathan that they wouldn’t want to spend time with him now that he was officially Snape’s son.

That was why he was taking dinner in a far corner of the Gryffindor table that night. He was still aware of all the staring he was attracting, but he preferred that to his friends’ indifference to his presence. At least his father was missing from both meals. _One pair of eyes less to stare at me_ , Nathan though, not really admitting what his father’s absence really meant to him.

At the Head Table, Headmistress McGonagall was quite aware of the lonely boy taking his meal at the Gryffindor table and the empty seat by her left. She turned to Lupin and asked, “Have you seen Severus today?”

“Not after breakfast, no.” Lupin followed Minerva’s eyes to the far corner of the Gryffindor table and assured her, “I’ll talk to him and see if he needs anything.”

Minerva looked back at Remus and understood he was talking about Nathan. She nodded. “He looks even more like Severus at his age when he’s being reserved.”

It was Remus time to nod. 

“You don’t seem surprised with the news, Remus,” Minerva added conversationally.

“I already knew,” he admitted. “As you pointed out, Nathan is quite a reminder of Severus at his age.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see the signs before,” she confessed. 

“You were our teacher, Minerva. I would be alarmed if you would remember how all your former students looked when they were kids.” He smiled at her. Again looking at Nathan, he added, “I was Severus’ classmate, though. It’s easier for me to see the resemblances between the two of them.”

“And he has much of his mother, too,” she added.

“He’s a Gryffindor.” Remus smiled mischievously at her. 

Minerva couldn’t hide her mirth when she said, “Poor Severus.”

Remus left the Head Table short after that. He was taking a seat beside Nathan, his back to the table, before the boy could say anything. “Not very hungry today?”

“Not really,” Nathan answered.

“Maybe avoiding your friends is taking your appetite,” Lupin suggested.

“I’m not avoiding anyone.”

“It seems I made the wrong assumption, there must be several reasons you’re eating at the far end of the table, I’m sure.”

Nathan sighed. “I’m just making their life simpler. This way they don’t need to make an effort to chat with Snape’s son.”

“Why an effort should be needed to chat with you, Nathan? You’re the same wonderful kid you were yesterday,” Lupin assured him.

Nathan smiled sadly at his professor. He knew his Head of House was trying to cheer him up, being always so nice with him. But nothing Professor Lupin said would change what the others thought of him now that he was Snape’s son.

“Do you think you’re less than you were before finding out you were Severus’ son?”

Nathan looked back at his professor to find his penetrating look on him. “No,” he simply answered.

“Good,” Lupin nodded, “because you’re not.”

They were silent for some moments following those statements. Lupin broke the contemplative silence, “You know where to find me if you need anything. Don’t hesitate in doing so.” He patted Nathan on the shoulder and left for the main doors. Professor Lupin was always there when he needed, and he couldn’t avoid thinking her mother had chosen the wrong teacher to be his father.

Nathan looked around then and found he was almost alone in the Great Hall. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the time going by. He stood and made his way to the common room. He wasn’t surprised when every Gryffindor forgot what they had been doing to look at him the moment he crossed the portrait hole, but he couldn’t say the same when Andy called him from a far corner. 

“Why didn’t you eat with us?” the boy asked when Nathan was closer.

Although he could see that Andy was really intrigued by his behavior during dinner, Nathan didn’t need to be a genius to notice the discomfort of the others with him. He was somehow happy that Andy had called him over there, but he didn’t want to spoil the others’ night by staying.

“I was late and didn’t want you to have to wait until I was finished to leave the Great Hall,” Nathan finally answered. “I guess I’ll see you later in the dormitory. I have some reading to do before class tomorrow.” Then, addressing the group as a whole, he said, “Good night.”

Some answered, others didn’t. Nathan couldn’t say who was in which group; he was leaving the common room for the dormitories as soon as he bid his leave. If he had looked, he would have seen Andy’s sad face while watching him go.

Later that night, he was on his bed, the curtains hiding his opened eyes in the darkened room. All the boys were already there, presumably sleeping as he also should have been, when he heard a whisper, “Nathan.”

He closed his eyes.

“Nathan, are you still awake?” his friend insisted.

Nathan had decided to ignore Andy when a raven-haired head invaded the space of his bed through the crimson drapes. 

“What is it?” he finally gave in.

“I want to talk to you,” Andy whispered back.

Nathan sighed and sat up on his bed, giving space for Andy to do the same. Nathan took his wand and whispered a _Lumos_.

“Why are you avoiding us?” the boy asked.

Nathan sighed again, dropping his eyes in the dim light. “I know what you’re doing, Andy, and I appreciate it. But I can’t make the others be around me when it’s clear that they don’t want to.”

Andy was going to protest, but Nathan anticipated, “I know you still want to hang around with me.” Both smiled, Nathan sadly. “But I don’t believe the others think the same, now that I’m Professor Snape’s son.”

“It was a bit of a shock,” Andy admitted.

“I know,” Nathan agreed sorrowfully.

“Maybe they need some time to get used to it,” his friend suggested.

“I need some time to get used to it.” Another sad smile.

“Did you know he was your father when you fought him yesterday?” Andy asked.

Nathan frowned at himself before admitting, “Yes.”

“Oh,” was Andy’s answer to that.

A tired silence fell upon the two friends. Andy yawned.

“It’s late,” Nathan said at length, yawning as well. He was actually getting sleepy now.

“See you tomorrow,” Andy said, climbing out of Nathan’s bed to go back to his own.

Nathan murmured a _Nox_ and was finally sleeping this day away.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione left her footprints on the snow as she made her way through the frozen grounds of Hogwarts castle. She walked fast against the wind, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She had gone to visit Harry the day before, expecting to find resistance to her desires once more, but the man who met her was a completely different version of him. Well, not completely different, but at least willing to give up his affront in the Nathan-interacting-with-Severus issue, even if with sneers and frowns.

Good for him, Hermione had thought, because she had gone there with the same resolve she was reaching the school with now: to sort things out, no matter what. She flung one of the heavy doors open and was bathed with welcomed warmth. Hermione cleaned most of the snow from her clothes and took a deep breath. It was not long past noon, but Nathan should be free of duties by now – he didn’t have classes on Friday afternoons, nor did Severus. 

She made her way up to Remus’ office. Hermione had contemplated how to approach her son after these weeks of no communication. She had discarded looking for him in the common room, especially after yesterday’s _Prophet_. Her best chance was to ask Remus to summon him to his office and see how things progressed from there. She hoped Nathan would be more willing now; that would make things easier for them all.

Remus answered her knock with a smile. “I’m glad to see you, Hermione.” He stepped back to allow her entrance.

“It’s good to see you, too, Remus.”

“What can I do for you?” he asked, settling back behind his desk.

Hermione took an armchair facing him. “I was wondering if you could summon Nathan for me.”

“Of course,” Lupin answered solicitous. He withdrew his chair only enough to address the portrait to his left, “Sir Gryffindor, would be so kind as to fetch Mr. Granger from the common room?”

The Founder made a bow of courtesy and left the confines of his canvas.

“Thank you,” Hermione expressed her gratitude to Remus.

“Not a problem,” he assured her with a smile. 

“How is he? I mean, after the newspaper. Did Severus speak with him after that?” She couldn’t contain her anxious curiosity. Seeming to realize that, she worried her bottom lip before adding, “I’m sorry. You wouldn’t know if he did. I’m just worried.”

“I happen to know that he didn’t,” Remus answered nonetheless.

She looked at him for a moment then nodded. 

“Nathan is... he’s a little sad and confused with the way things are developing, but that was to be expected.”

“It was not supposed to be this complicated,” she admitted in a lament.

Godric Gryffindor reentered his painting at that moment. “He’s on his way,” he offered.

“Thank you, sir.” 

Lupin smiled at her. She smiled back. “I would offer you some tea, but I’m off to a class in a minute. You can use my office for the time you need.”

She stood at that, with him following suit. “There won’t be necessary, thank you. I’ll wait for him outside. I have another place in mind for this conversation.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Hermione,” he admitted. “I’m very fond of Nathan and have a great faith in you.”

“Thank you again, Remus. I don’t think I’ve thanked you enough for everything you’ve been doing for my son.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he said, accompanying her out the door and through the still empty classroom back to the halls of the third floor. 

When she turned to him to thank him again, she found his eyes locked somewhere over her shoulder. She turned to see what had caught his attention and observed Nathan approaching. 

“Good luck,” he wished before greeting a third-year arriving for class and reentering the Defense classroom.

Hermione waited her son move toward her among older students, slowly. She wanted to hug him right there, he seemed so sad. But that would not do. She had to control her emotions or she wouldn’t be getting what she was there for. 

When he stopped in front of her, quiet, she told him, “I asked Professor Lupin to call you.” She still wanted to hug him.

“I thought that must be the reason,” Nathan told her.

“We need to talk,” she said. “May I assume that wouldn’t be a problem?” Her words were objective and firm, but her need to hug him only barely bearable.

Nathan shrugged. “It’s okay,” he agreed dispassionately, never meeting her eyes, preferring to watch the movement in the hall. At least looking up from the floor.

Hermione reached a hand to his shoulder, unable to resist anymore. “Come, then,” she beckoned and started for the marble staircase. She smiled with herself when he didn’t object to her touch. She was even curving her mouth into an actual smile when he leaned closer, and she could now involve him in a half-hug.

They walked in silence, marveling in the simple company of one another, until the corridors were emptier.

“You worried me with how you’ve been acting,” she confessed. “There wasn’t an hour spent in my day that I wouldn’t think about you, of how you were doing, feeling…”

“I was thinking about you, too,” he confessed next, making Hermione tighten her one-armed hug while they descended another level of the castle.

“So you don’t hate me,” she intoned in a question.

Nathan shook his head.

“You were angry and hurt, I understand,” she helped him. He nodded. “I’m sorry things weren’t how you hoped they would be. They got out of hand, and that was not how I wanted them to progress, either.”

She let her words sink in, continuing to guide him around the castle. They were a few steps from the Entrance Hall when she decided to disclose her intentions. “That’s why we’re all going to talk today, as a family, and will start to bring things to how they were supposed to be since the beginning.”

Nathan stiffened by the time she’d said family. “Do you mean talk with _him_?” He faced her for the first time that day, eyes wide as if she was saying some absurdity.

“Precisely,” she answered, urging him into the Entrance Hall so they could make for the dungeons.

Nathan disentangled himself from her arm, shrugging it off nervously, but she held him by the hand. “I’m not meeting him,” he stated.

“We’ll both be meeting him,” she countered, trying to assure him confidence by including her.

“I agreed to talk to you, not him.”

Hermione could see he was getting more agitated. “Nathan, there is no reason to postpone this anymore. Come, we’ll just talk.” She pulled him a couple of steps towards the dungeons.

“You can’t make me talk to him!” he raged, visibly losing control, throwing his weight in the opposite direction she was willing to take him.

“Yes I can, but I was hoping you’d be willing to cooperate to put an end to this inane situation,” she answered while he shook his head in denial of her every word, trying to free his hand.

“No, I won’t go there, Mum. I won’t!” He pulled against her hold, angry.

“Stop this nonsense right now!” she hissed. “You’re not five years old anymore, for God’s sake! You’re acting as if I was dragging you to your death or something!” Hermione was expecting some resistance, but nothing so desperate like this. 

It got worse. “He hates me, Mum! Believe me, he doesn’t want to see me! Please!” he whined, trying desperately to free himself from her firm grip.

“That’s enough!” she said briskly, both annoyed and somehow scared by such strong denial. She summoned force to her resolve and said, still in a harsher tone than usual, “He doesn’t hate you, Nathan!” She took a deep breath to calm herself and went very close to him, face leveled with his, looking seriously into his eyes. “Here is the thing, you _are_ coming with me down there, like it or not! You can keep walking like the capable boy you are, or I can Petrify and Levitate you there. What will it be?”

Nathan was staring at her in disbelief, on the verge of tears after that statement. Hermione hated the way she was forcing him to agree to this meeting, but she had made up her mind. They had no choice in this: the three of them were going to come to an understanding, and today.

Calmer, determined, but with her heart aching, she turned to the last flight of stairs and urged, “Come,” tugging at him to follow.

They got to the Potions master’s office, and Hermione knocked, having Nathan between her and the door. Her heart was beating faster with the prospect of finally getting there, to this meeting, of having her son and his father together, knowing of one another. If only she could be sure of Severus’ receptivity…

“He’s not here,” Nathan said to the lack of answer to her knocks, trying to evade her hands to go back from where they’d come. 

She held him firmly in place and tried for the doorknob with no success. She turned to go further into the dungeons, taking Nathan with her, becoming more nervous and anxious with each step they took. What if Severus refused to answer her? Stopping in front of the next door, Hermione forced those thoughts away, trying to focus on her Gryffindor traits, and knocked.

“Where are we?” Nathan asked alarmed.

“Your father’s quarters,” she answered, and Nathan tried to escape her hands again.

“Mum, he must be busy, we can come back another time,” he tried, but she wasn’t listening, concentrated on her goal.

“Severus, open up!” Hermione called, knocking harder. 

Nathan was looking at her as if seeing her for the first time, shocked with her boldness towards the feared professor. “He’s not here, Mum. Let’s…” 

Nathan suggestion died when the door opened in front of them, held by a scowling Severus Snape. 

“What do y-” Severus’ tirade was cut short by the sight of Nathan.

“Good afternoon, Severus,” Hermione greeted as if nothing was amiss and pushed a reluctant Nathan into Severus’ living room, not waiting to be invited.

Seeming to regain his power of speech, Severus questioned, “What’s the meaning of this?”

“We’re here to have that conversation,” she answered right away.

“What conversation? I have agreed to none of this!” 

Hermione gave him a pointed look. “Don’t be obtuse; it doesn’t suit you, Severus. We’re having this conversation in spite of your agreement to it. I won’t be waiting on you two to start working things out between us.” She looked at both her _boys_ this time. 

Severus glare would have scared some of the deceased Dark Lord’s minions. Nathan looked from his enraged father to his mother, still holding him by the shoulders, as if waiting for the impending duel. 

Hermione returned Severus’ glare unwaveringly. “Don’t even start, Severus. We’re not getting out of here before working this through!” And with that, she moved Nathan with her to one of the sofas, coaxing him to sit and making herself comfortable by his side.

Severus growled. “Have you lost the rest of the sanity you had, woman? I’m not playing your little games anymore! Now, do get out!” he barked. “Out!”

Hermione didn’t move, staring at Severus with her chin up. “Not until we have talked. We need this family meeting, Severus.”

“Family? What family?” Severus was pacing in front of his _guests_. He stopped in front of her to add, gesticulating, as if she was younger than their son, “There is no family, Granger. There will never be!”

She frowned at Severus. “Of course there is!” she countered outraged, leaving Nathan alone on the sofa to confront Severus with full force. “We’re Nathan’s family. I’m his mother, you’re his father: a family!”

He snorted in her face. “This,” Severus motioned to the three of them, “is _not_ anyone’s definition of family.”

“Maybe not before,” Hermione had to agree. “But from now on, it is.”

“This can never be, Granger! Give up!” Severus affirmed again, annoyed. “It’s past the time you abandon your pathetic dreams of all happiness and smiles.”

“Then tell me, Severus, since your Inner Eye seems able to see our future, why can’t this be a family?” she dared him. Oh, how this man could infuriate her!

He bared his teeth to her. “You damn know why this will never work, Granger!”

“I don’t think I do, no. Do enlighten me, Severus!”

Severus bared his teeth again, this time actually growling. “Why did you bring him with you? This is not a matter to be discussed in front of a child!”

“I beg to differ,” she countered him again. “You need to put aside your differences. You haven’t talked to each other since Nathan found out the truth about you,” she told him matter-of-factly. “And we need the whole family for a family meeting,” she added.

Severus rolled his eyes. “Stop with the family crap!”

“You haven’t convinced me why we can’t be a family yet. Maybe _you_ should stop with the crap,” she challenged.

And that did it. “You asked for this, Granger,” he started, getting closer to her, threateningly. “Do you really want to know why this will never be something resembling a family? Because I won’t inflict my presence to someone who hates me just to make this fantasy happen for you. Your son hates me!” Severus finished saying that with the most dangerously low voice. 

His argument had seemed to have the effect Severus expected, silencing Granger, or at least one of them…

“I don’t hate you,” came the small voice from behind the woman. 

“What?” Severus asked in obvious disbelief.

Hermione came out of her daze and turned to her boy on the sofa, who held his head in his hands. She sat back on the sofa and caressed Nathan’s head. “Of course you don’t, honey,” she asserted him. “No one hates anyone here.”

“He does!” Nathan looked up to his father to deliver his accusation. “He never wanted me around, always sending me away for no reason. He doesn't even come to the Great Hall to eat most of the time. And... and he tried to get another teacher to supervise my detentions!”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Severus said mostly to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose as if plagued by a headache.

Hermione sighed. So they thought one hated the other. What a mess! She took a deep breath and started, “Severus doesn’t hate you, Nathan, far from that, actually. He cares for you and is always worried about you.”

When that didn’t seem to affect Nathan much, she continued, “When you were having trouble with Malfoy, he contacted me to tell about the situation and to ask me to talk to you about it. He made you that necklace at Christmas, so he could know when you were sad or in danger, even if he wasn’t around.”

She knew her words were having some effect when she saw Nathan look speculatively at Severus, who now had his back to them and faced the hearth. Hermione carried on with her speech, “One night, you were having a nightmare, and Severus could see your distress through the necklace. He came looking for me so I could wake you up and take care of you. He was there with me, Nathan, until you fell asleep again.”

Severus exhaled audibly, bowing his head. Was he ashamed of her telling Nathan these things? She wouldn’t back down now that she knew Nathan was within a step of persuasion. “When you heard his conversation with Harry the day you found out, we were both very worried about you, as you might imagine.” Her voice was breathily soft, her hands caressing his head. “Severus and I searched through almost the entire castle for you before we found you sleeping in the Trophy Room. I wanted to wake you up and see if you were injured, but he held me back and carried you in his arms to my bed. He helped me tuck you in for the night and watched you while I talked with Harry and Professor Lupin.” 

She paused and looked at Severus’ still form contrasting with the light shadowing him from their view, then turned back to their son, whose black eyes were softened by what she’d told him. To be sure, she added, “Your father cares a great deal about you, Nathan.”

Hermione permitted the silence to soothe the air between them. The crackling fire lanced shadows on Nathan’s contemplative face. She knew she’d made through. 

Nathan inclined his head. “Is it true?” he asked his father.

Severus didn’t turn to them or made any sign that he had heard him. Hermione stood and approached slowly. “Severus?” she called tentatively. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, then closed them. She reached a hand to touch his shoulder in an encouraging gesture, and he sighed with the touch. “Answer your son,” she asked softly.

He stepped away from her hand to turn and face Nathan. Severus locked eyes with his son for a moment before finally answering, “I don’t hate you.” Their eyes continued to hold one another’s for what seemed an eternity, and Nathan nodded his acceptance to his father’s confession. 

“That’s it. We’re finally getting somewhere.” Hermione risked smiling at them. 

It was Severus’ time to nod, even if reluctantly. “I think this puts an end to any plan of cauldron sabotage and yelling in the halls?” He arched an eyebrow to Nathan.

Nathan lowered his gaze to his hands. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Hermione looked quizzically to Severus, but he didn’t offer any explanation to that.

“Now, if that was all, I do have things to attend. I wasn’t expecting to be locked in a meeting for the afternoon,” he added, looking pointedly to Hermione this time. 

Before she could deny that dismissal, Nathan was on his feet and heading for the door. Well, their first family meeting was officially over. “Wait for me in the hall, Nathan,” she called after him before he could disappear into the castle. She wasn’t finished with him yet.

Nathan muttered his agreement and left the room. 

When the door clicked closed, she turned to meet Severus and almost collided with him; she didn’t hear him approaching. 

“I don’t like surprises,” he told her. “Bear in mind that this sort of intrusion will not be taken lightly in the future.”

He wanted to intimidate her, she knew, to caution her with his looming figure and deadly low voice, but his proximity had a very different effect on her. If she had stayed behind to say something to him, she didn’t remember anymore, mesmerized as she was by the moment. Realizing she’d been staring at his lips, she averted her eyes, looking for something to say.

She tried her voice, and felt her mouth was dry. She darted her tongue to lick at her lips and cleared her throat. Severus stepped back, and she wanted to follow, but didn’t. 

“I hope to see you at dinner,” Hermione said, and felt foolish like a silly teenager.

“I don’t think I have a choice,” he answered crossly.

She suppressed a sigh of disappointment with his answer and turned for the door. “Indeed, you don’t.” She was gone. 

Severus heard the echo of the door closing and was free to frown at himself. _What had just happened here?_ No, he wasn’t referring to the invasion of the infuriating woman into his private space, bringing their son with her to trick the boy with this false family she had created in her insanity. He would be worrying about that later. What was bothering him right now was that heavy lidded eyes had fixed on his lips, that tongue that had darted out to moisten her own, and most definitely the raw need he felt so strongly of kissing them until they were swollen and she was breathless in his arms. 

“Damn it!” he admonished his treacherous mind. He knew the images he witnessed today and those he would conjure later would be filling his dreams in ways he would not have wanted. 

_Essays, where did I leave those essays_ , he urged himself to think, heading out of his quarters to find occupation for his mind in his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, a family meeting with many good outcomes! I’m proud of myself for achieving that, actually. :0) 
> 
> Of course I would be lost without my angel GinW and friends such as Haley. They were holding my hand and pointing me to the right direction all this time. Thank you! :0)
> 
> On a sad note, Snakyroxy is no longer my beta. :0( She left the fandom for a while, but Indigofeathers was generous enough to take her place and help GinW. Thanks, Indy! :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** Nathan feels what it’s like to be a Snape, and Hermione wants the family meetings to continue.


	23. Being a Snape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan feels what it’s like to be a Snape, and Hermione wants the family meetings to continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinW and Indigofeathers – thank you very much!

Hermione emerged from the Potions master’s quarters with her self-control shaken. Nathan, who had been waiting for her as asked, mistook her unfocused eyes for disorientation.

“I’m here, Mum,” he said, approaching her.

Hermione shook herself from her thoughts. “Come on, honey.” She placed a hand lightly between his shoulder blades to lead him out of the dungeons. 

Nathan let himself be led, giving no resistance this time. Since he had left the so-called “family meeting”, he’d been immersed in a tangle of new thoughts and feelings, shattering his previous assumptions and feeding his internal confusion. 

The moment his mother had told him they were going to meet his father, his heart had ached and his first reaction had been dread. His mother’s behavior at Professor Snape’s door had surprised him with her lack of caution. When the feared professor answered his mother’s insistent knocks, and she had pushed them both inside, Nathan had thought there was no way the three of them were going to walk out of those quarters unharmed. 

He had watched in silence while his parents argued, not knowing what else to do. To say that he’d been surprised by the path their discussion had taken would be an understatement. The way his mother had spoken about them being a family, about the meeting being a new start for them, had struck his heart with shaking force. Only his father’s denial reminded him of the surrealism of it all. When Professor Snape had hesitated in answering why they couldn’t be a family, Nathan’s hopes, destroyed the night he’d found out who his father really was, were reborn, and he longed again to have the family his mother was so vehemently saying they were – he wanted his mother to win that argument.

And when his father had said the only reason their family would never exist was Nathan’s hatred for him, he had to interfere. 

Nathan sighed at the top of the stairs they had just climbed to the first floor. He'd made Professor Snape really think he hated him when he actually didn’t. But at the time, Nathan had been so angry and frustrated with the man that he'd felt the need to scream at him, to get past the wall the man seemed to have around his feelings. When he left the Great Hall that day, Nathan had thought nothing of what he’d said, only enjoyed the victory. But, if he were to be honest with himself, the stunned look in his father’s eyes had haunted him. No, he didn’t hate Professor Snape, but Nathan knew the man hated him and he'd said so today.

Only to find out that Professor Snape hadn’t hated him, either. 

Then what had been all that… that… hatred he felt emanating from the man? There was no other word for that! And yet, his father had said with all those words that he didn’t hate him. If all that his mother had told him today… if half of it was true…. Facts his father had not denied, not a thing! Then, that could only mean…. 

He didn’t know what to think of Professor Snape anymore.

Nathan looked at his mother’s face and could see she was also lost in thought. He'd seldom seen her act the way she had today, so forceful and determined. He’d forgotten how strong she really was, maybe because he knew very well how to get to her, how using her vulnerability to all things related to his father made her feel. He felt ashamed for using her feelings against her and lowered his eyes to watch the stones of the castle pass under his feet.

He was sure she would scold him for all he’d said to her, for all the accusations. He deserved it. She was such a special woman, the best mother there was, and he’d told her he didn’t need her, that he hated her. What was wrong with him? Why would he say he hated people when he didn’t? Just because he had been mad at the world, it didn’t mean he had the right to do so. But he hadn’t known what else to do that day, and yelling accusations at her was all he had in him.

They reached his mother’s quarters and she used her wand to bring down the wards. The vision of his mother doing magic had always awed Nathan, and it wasn't different now. It reminded him of how things were before Hogwarts, of how happy and simple life was, even without knowing his father. 

Nathan’s vision blurred with unshed tears and – the emotional load from these weeks and especially the meeting they’d just returned from began to overwhelm him. He longed for the happy and simple life he had, only now he wanted his father to be part of it. A family, just as his mother said. 

They crossed the threshold, and his mother closed the door behind them. A tear slid his cheek unable to be held back. Was it possible? Would he really have a complete family now? Another tear rolled down after the first.

“Nathan, there are some things we need to talk about, the first being how you've behaved all these…” she trailed off. “Are you crying?” she asked in a much more lenient tone.

He was fighting the tears as he shook his head in denial, not trusting his voice.

“Yes, you are,” she disagreed. “What’s wrong, honey?” She touched his face to wipe away another stubborn tear.

“I,” he squeaked, then tried again, “I don’t know.”

Hermione cupped the back of his head in her right hand and drew Nathan to her chest, her other hand on his back pressing him to her, hugging him. “I believe this was the last strength you had. I’m sorry I had to force this meeting, honey, but you needed to know you were wrong about each other. You understand, don’t you?”

Nathan nodded against her chest, knotting his hands in her robes. 

She kissed his head, and brought him with her to the sofa, where she sat them both down and pulled Nathan onto her lap. Hermione took his head in her hands and brushed his hair back from his face, smearing his tears. “I’m very proud of you for admitting you don’t hate your father,” she told him. “That was really brave.” She smiled at him.

Nathan nodded again, now calmer than a minute before. He gulped down the last of the lump in his throat and said, “I didn’t know Professor Snape thought I hated him for real. I was just really annoyed with him for all he did to me.”

“I know, honey.” Hermione drew his head to her shoulder, and Nathan made himself more comfortable to lie against her.

“I thought he hated me,” he confessed by way of an explanation for his actions.

“Now you know he doesn’t,” she said simply.

Nathan nodded again, and silence surrounded mother and son, with her caressing and holding him. Nathan was deep in thought for another moment before deciding to clear up another point. “You know that I don’t hate you, don’t you, Mum? Because I said I did, but I didn’t mean it.”

“You were angry and frustrated, but what you said was really hurtful.”

“But I didn’t mean it,” he insisted, looking her in the eye.

“I know, but you have to start choosing your words more carefully. It hurt badly when you said that, even knowing you didn’t mean it.” 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized and hugged her hard, burying his face in her neck. 

She sighed and hugged him back. “Try to think before you speak, or act for that matter. I don’t know what you said or did to your father these past weeks, but I want you to know that he doesn’t know you as well as I do and anything you say or do will be taken seriously by him,” she cautioned.

“I know. I won’t say things I don’t mean ever again.”

“I hope you keep your word on this. Now, move off onto the couch, you’re getting too heavy for me.”

Nathan reluctantly settled on the cushion, but leant back against her side, cherishing her ministrations too much to let them go quite yet. While she continued to play with his hair, he decided to ask some of the questions that had been lingering in his head for some time now. “If he cares for me as you say, why didn’t he look for me before?”

Hermione stopped moving her hand, letting his hair escape from between her fingers. “He didn’t know you existed until very recently,” she told him honestly.

“How come?” Nathan insisted.

“I never told him he had a son, just as I never told you he was your father.”

This was confusing. “Why?” he asked, wanting to understand her reasons.

She didn’t answer for a while, but then began to move her hand over his head again and said, “When I found out I was pregnant with you, I was very happy, but also very apprehensive. It wasn’t the best of times to have a child; I was too young, your father had too much on his mind, and the war was over for merely weeks. Even with all the difficulties, I knew I wanted you more than anything. You always gave me strength to live, to start over after all the horrors of the war, but I knew your father wouldn’t think the same, not at that moment.”

She stopped her caressing movement again. “You see, he was being judged for his participation in the war as a Death Eater, and we were gathering evidence to attest to his role as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, even when he had already confessed to his part in Dumbledore’s death.” 

Nathan looked up to see his mother lost in memories. 

She continued, “Severus didn’t make our work easier. He thought he deserved to pay for all the things he had done under Voldemort’s orders, when he truly didn’t have a choice. He was absolved, of course, but I believe it took a while for him to accept the Wizengamot’s decision.”

“He wanted to go to Azkaban?” Nathan asked not quite understanding his father from what his mother was telling him.

“He did,” Hermione confirmed, looking seriously into Nathan’s eyes. “In his opinion, all he did during the war were the consequences of his choices and his choices alone, so he thought it only fair to pay for them by being held there. But we wouldn’t let him go to Azkaban for doing what he had to do to help Harry and the Order. His participation in the war was crucial, Nathan. He’s truly a hero, much more the hero than people say I am… but not everyone could see that, and he was one of them.”

Nathan lowered his eyes to his lap. “But why didn’t you tell him about me?”

“Because he would have blamed himself for that too, he would have thought that he was ruining my life by making me have a child at such a young age. I’m sure he would have demanded that I give up on you, when all I wanted was to have you… more than anything in my life.” She pressed her lips to his head. “I couldn’t let anyone get between my baby and me, so I chose not to tell anyone, especially not Severus.”

“Nor me,” Nathan added.

“I had plans of telling him and you every year after your first birthday, but it seemed the right time never came, until he finally found out. He was really mad at me for keeping you from him, and I’m so very sorry,” she finished in a whisper.

Nathan sniffed. “I wished you would have told us.”

“I’m sorry I was so selfish and coward. I really thought I was protecting you from all of this pain that you’re going through right now, but what good did it do? You’re suffering all the same, you almost ended up hating each other, and it’s my fault. I hope it’s in your heart to forgive me one day.” 

Nathan didn’t say anything. He didn’t think he had much to say after that. He definitely couldn’t say he forgave her, but he couldn’t say he wouldn't, either. It was all too much to handle at the moment, so he didn't. It helped that his mother didn’t seem to be expecting a decision from him, for now. 

Knowing his father hadn’t looked for him during all those years because he didn’t even know of his existence was a relief. At least Professor Snape might still want to get to know him, although Nathan couldn’t see how or why. That brought a new question to break the silence: “What happens now?”

Which was answered with another question: “What do you want to happen now?”

That sent Nathan back into thinking about his new reality. What did he want? What will it be like to have Professor Snape as his father? He’d had a taste of what it would be like from his friends’ reactions to the news. “Everything would be so much easier if you had chosen another teacher to be my father.” He sighed, remembering how Professor Lupin was always so kind and helpful.

Hermione chuckled. “That would have made you a completely different boy, and I wouldn’t want that.” She touched his nose affectionately with a finger, smiling at him.

“But it would have made my life in Gryffindor easier. Now everybody looks at me as if I’ll turn into Professor Snape at any moment or something. I can’t blame them. Who would want to be friends with Professor Snape’s son?”

“Severus won’t win any popularity contests, will he? I’m sorry your friends in Gryffindor can’t see past the House rivalry and the strict professor. At least now you’ll learn who your true friends are.”

“I suppose,” he agreed reluctantly.

“But you still haven’t told me what you want to happen from this point on.” 

“Everybody already knows I’m Snape’s son, I might as well be it.” Nathan shrugged.

Hermione smiled. “You won’t regret it, Nathan. I know you and Severus will become good friends. You have a lot in common.” She stopped her enthusiastic speech seeing the frown on Nathan’s face. “What is it?”

“I don’t think I want to have things in common with Professor Snape.” 

“Oh, don’t be silly! Don’t you want to be a good potion brewer? Don’t you want to know how to duel like him? To be able to create new spells, to be that courageous…”

“He can beat Uncle Harry in a duel,” Nathan commented. 

“Yes, he can,” she agreed.

“But he’s always cruel in class,” he countered.

“I never said cruelty was something you _should_ have in common with your father,” she refuted his argument. “You’re not a different boy just because you know Severus is your father and will now spend more time with him. You’re a sweet boy, just and good – most of the time – and I would hope that remains the same.”

“I will have to spend more time with him, won’t I? It’ll be like detentions all over again.” Nathan sighed.

“Detentions are punishment. Spending time with your father is not a punishment. Whatever he made you do while you were in detention, it’s not what you’ll do as father and son.”

It made sense, but Nathan didn’t know what Snape and he could do together that didn’t fall into the punishment category. He couldn’t see Professor Snape having any kind of fun.

“Don’t worry so much,” his mother told him. “You’ll see how things will go naturally as if you had been doing things together always.” Hermione stood up then. “And talking about things to do, would you like to join me in the lab?” She extended her hand.

He accepted it with a smile.

~o0oOo0o~

After spending the rest of the afternoon grading essays he’d retrieved from his office and catching up with some Potion journals, Severus had to leave his quarters for dinner. He hadn’t met any staff members since breakfast that fateful morning, preferring to have his meals in his quarters, but tonight he would attend dinner in the Great Hall. Reflecting upon the woman’s last words to him this afternoon, Severus felt himself challenged to meet Granger at dinner and make sure he made nothing of it.

When he arrived there, he was greeted by the headmistress, “Good evening, Severus. It’s nice to see you.” She seemed to expect an answer, which he didn’t give her. “I was starting to think you were ill. I had considered asking Poppy to pay you a visit if you hadn’t shown up for dinner.”

He was already sitting by her side when he retorted, “If I were ill, I would be dead by now. I was only busy.”

“I’m glad you found some time to join us today,” Lupin said from Minerva’s other side.

Severus ignored the werewolf while making his plate. He wanted to eat, prove to Granger he thought nothing of her childish challenge, and go back to the dungeons, to his lab that she’d been occupying during the afternoon. The only “but” was she was not in the Great Hall yet and Severus would have to wait to make sure she would see him there.

He finally looked up from his plate and took in the hall while drinking from his goblet. The first thing he noticed was Nathan’s absence. _He must be with her_ , Severus realized. 

And he wasn’t mistaken; there he was, walking beside his mother, crossing the threshold of the main entrance. They talked animatedly while she led him to a seat next to Wood. The normalcy of their behavior after everything that had happened was oddly calming to him; Severus had been worried about Nathan since their meeting, even if he didn’t want to admit to it. 

Hermione found his eyes on them, and they stayed on her while she made her way to the Head Table. Only when she nodded, smiling, did Severus realize what he was doing and harrumphed. Minerva noticed.

“How’s the boy faring? Have you talked to them yet?” she asked.

“Yes, not that it’s any of your business, Minerva,” he tried to dismiss her.

“He reminds me of you at his age,” she added conversationally, ignoring his rude answer. 

“He’s nothing like me,” he answered frowning at his plate.

“He has a lot of Hermione too, of course. He’s a Gryffindor, for one.”

“Ah, so that’s the reason for all the meaningless chatter,” he concluded. “Head of Slytherin has a Gryffindor son. I’m shocked that headline didn’t make it to the _Prophet_ yet; the news would change how the wizarding world lived, I’m sure.”

Minerva’s silence after his sarcastic tirade claimed his attention. He glanced her way in time to see Granger talking to Lupin. She was all smiles and even touched his shoulder while they talked. Of course Lupin was melting into smiles for her, too. _Disgusting_ , he thought, but only out of jealousy. How could she act as if nothing had changed? Or worse, as if things had improved tenfold now that the world knew she had had some kind of association with him? He had barely taken his eyes from his plate, and she was all smiles and cheerily chatting. _Disgusting_.

He made a point of ignoring her, eating fast. Granger exchanged more pleasant words with Minerva. _Is this a tea party?_ he castigated her mentally. Minerva asked Granger to join her for tea the next day, following on the heels of this thought, and Severus smirked into his goblet.

Then she did the unthinkable – she took the seat on his left.

“I see you made it to dinner,” Granger said, getting herself comfortable to have her meal.

 _And she is already annoying me_.

“I dine here from time to time.” He held firm against his impulse to roll his eyes.

She was silent while she made her plate, adding to his nerves. “Nathan is feeling much better after our first meeting. We spent the afternoon in the lab together like we did in the old days,” she finally told him.

Severus took his eyes from the table to search for his son. Nathan was eating quietly, apparently left out of the conversation going on around him. As he watched, only Wood had directed some words to the boy – words responded to with only a silent nod. Severus frowned.

“He’s adapting,” came the woman’s voice, and he looked at her to see she had her attention on Nathan, too. “They’re adapting,” she amended. “Life will soon be back to normal.”

Severus doubted that. “He’ll always be judged for his relationship to me.”

“He’s being tested, not judged, Severus. He has to prove he hasn't changed because they now know you’re his father. It won’t take long now that things are moving along better between the two of you.”

He still didn’t believe her, but he would not discuss this in the Great Hall; Minerva was already paying more attention to them than to her food. Granger fell blessedly into silence after his lack of argument, though it was a pity it wasn’t for long.

“When do you think we can meet again, the three of us?” she asked. 

Severus sighed and gave up on his pudding. 

“You do know that we’ll have to meet regularly, right?” She was arching an eyebrow at him, the impossible woman. “Since I’m here every weekend, we could schedule something on Sundays, if that’s good with you.” 

He averted his eyes from hers to observe his son clearly playing with the food on his plate. It took him a long moment, but Severus nodded his agreement. 

“It would do him good if you met without me at least once a week, too,” she added, now also observing Nathan. She then looked at him speculatively, probably waiting for him to refuse. Their eyes met and he held them. He could see her expression changing, softening, but never weakening. Such beautiful eyes….

“We can discuss this later in my office,” he caught himself inviting. Severus’ eyes left hers, searching the table. He became uncomfortable with the moment, and stood to leave.

“I’ll soon be with you,” she told him.

He blamed his traitorous mind for taking more meaning from her answer than was really there, and his expression hardened. 

Severus’ nod was so stiff, Hermione would have missed it if she wasn’t still staring at his angular face. She’d been lost in his eyes for a moment; she was always mesmerized by how impossibly black they were. She went back to her dinner, but her mind remained on the man leaving the Great Hall. The darkness of his eyes was similar but, at the same time, completely different from Nathan’s. Hermione wondered if it was because of the experience, the lack of innocence impregnated in Severus gaze; wondered if those eyes had ever been like their son’s.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan was always reserved, but never shy. Since yesterday though, he couldn’t meet other peoples in eyes, afraid of how they would look back at him, like now. Such a contrast to the pleasant time he'd spent with his mother until she'd left him by the Gryffindor table. Now he was alone again with his classmates, who were decidedly ignoring him. Well, not all of them; Andy was trying to pull him into the conversation, but Nathan didn’t feel comfortable enough to really join. He knew Andy was kicking Kevin under the table; he wasn’t a fool.

Nathan tried eating to see if it would lessen the awkwardness of the moment. He kept his attention on his plate, but the awareness of those looking at him was too heavy and so became the food. He nodded every other time to what Andy was saying and pretended to be eating until he would be free to leave for his dormitory. The only thing keeping him in the Great Hall was his mother’s watchful eye from the Head Table. Nathan had promised her he wouldn’t avoid his friends, so he had to stay.

His father had been watching him, too. What would he be thinking? His mother was talking to him, undoubtedly about their situation. Nathan frowned at the thought of him being a problem to be solved. It was just as good that his _friends_ stood to leave, so he wouldn’t have to think of it. 

He followed them. Literally. Nathan kept behind, preferring to walk alone.

Well, not as alone as he would have preferred. A group of Slytherins soon reached him just outside the Great Hall.

“Look if it isn’t the new Snape,” commented one of them. “A Gryffindor is the Head of Slytherin’s son. How come? Ironic, don’t you think?” The boy sniggered.

Nathan ignored him.

But one in their group didn’t. “It’s not, because he isn’t Snape’s son.”

That was harder to ignore, especially because he recognized that voice, but Nathan kept walking.

“Look at him. He’s a weak, whinny baby who goes straight to his mum and Harry Potter when he needs something. Pathetic! Snape’s son would never be like _this_ ,” Malfoy continued.

Nathan stopped and turned to them, looking Malfoy in the eye. The Slytherin smirked, raising his chin in challenge. The others were looking at Nathan speculatively. No one knew what would have happened if Andy hadn’t showed up to pull Nathan by the arm away from the Slytherins.

“Don’t pay attention to them,” Andy said in the middle of the stairs leading to the first floor. Nathan was still facing Malfoy, who hadn’t backed away, either. “You know he’s worth nothing.”

Nathan finally looked ahead and did as Andy asked. He didn’t know what pissed him off the most – Malfoy calling him weak and whinny or doubting the legitimacy of him being Snape’s son. He wanted to growl in frustration.

“Why are you still not talking with me?” Andy asked, making Nathan put Malfoy’s words aside.

“I’m not not-talking with you, Andy.”

They walked in silence as they continued through the halls and up another flight of stairs.

“You’re not talking with me,” Andy said again.

Nathan sighed. “What do you want me to say? That it’s cold outside? That Professor Binn’s assignment is boring?” he asked, annoyed. “I have nothing to say!”

“Did you talk to Snape?” Andy asked, a cautious tone to his voice. 

“Yes,” Nathan answered, sulkily. A while later, he added, “Sort of.”

“And…?” When Nathan didn’t fill in, Andy put forth the question, “What did he say?”

There had been so little words from his father to him at the meeting.... “He told me not to explode cauldrons and yell at him,” Nathan sufficed to say.

“That seems like Snape,” Andy nodded seriously. “And what did you say?”

“That I wouldn’t.”

Andy nodded again. “Wise answer.”

Nathan rolled his eyes, but felt better for telling Andy these things about Snape as his father. Maybe his mother was right and all this would serve him to find who his real friends were. Andy was definitely one of them.

~o0oOo0o~

“Come in,” he called.

Hermione entered quietly, closing the door behind her. She approached his desk and took an armchair facing it. She waited.

He waited.

She sighed.

“How do you want to proceed with the weekly meetings?” she finally asked.

“If it’s inevitable, Sundays are fine.”

“I thought that had been agreed upon during dinner. What about you and Nathan?” she inquired.

“I think I can arrange Wednesdays after dinner, if there is no detention to supervise.”

“Nathan was afraid your time together would be like detention,” she remembered, amused. She sobered. “It won’t be, right?”

He occupied his hands with rearranging parchments already ordered.

“For once, I don’t think you should meet here in your office. I think your quarters would be more appropriate,” she suggested. “That may help him understand the differences between the father and the teacher.”

He nodded.

“What do you intend to use this time for?” she asked next.

“I thought meeting without you meant having my own agenda.” He arched an eyebrow.

Severus could see she wanted to roll her eyes but was restraining herself impressively. He wanted to smirk.

“I think that leaves very little to discuss, unless you want to talk about the weather,” she told him, visibly irritated.

He smirked then.

“In fact, there is something else we need to discuss. After the _Prophet_ circus, there was an increase in the mail volume. I need you to find out if he’s got anything I should know about. Skeeter was very considerate in putting him in the sight of my enemies.”

“I think he would have told someone about any threats, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. I’m sure you can add that to your agenda, Severus.” She tilted her head as if he didn’t know retaliation when he saw it. 

“Fine,” he told her, not wanting to concede her victory. “I’ll ask him myself.”

She smiled.

And kept smiling, observing him. He wanted to ask what she was smiling about, but didn’t have to. He knew by now that she would be happy with the smallest of things. Severus liked her smile nonetheless.

“What do you have planned for Sunday?” he asked her.

Her smile grew before she disclosed her plans for their scheduled meetings. She wanted them to have dinner every week, just the three of them. To his skeptical look, she spoke of how families talked about their days – or in their case, weeks – during shared meals. Severus could have argued they were not an ordinary family, but he decided having dinner with Granger once a week was something he already did regardless. The only changes would be where and the addition of Nathan.

“I agree,” he told her.

“Great. We’ll meet you in your quarters at five.” She smiled again. “I am looking forward to it.”

Why would she? _She’s a glutton for punishment_ , he reasoned. “If you say so,” he said already imagining how awkward the evening would turn out to be. “I shall be there.” He took a parchment from his desk, hoping that would be enough for a dismissal.

“It’s settled, then.” She stood to leave. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“You know you will,” he answered.

He had the impression she had hesitated on her way out after those quiet words, but he couldn’t know for sure. Severus hadn’t looked up after saying them.

~o0oOo0o~

After deciding he would be who he was regardless of what people thought of him, Nathan was feeling more confident that Saturday morning. He had accepted Andy’s invitation to go to breakfast and was heading for the Great Hall. Kevin was with them, but he seemed vexed. _Well, too bad for him_ , Nathan thought, but intimately he felt sad about it.

Anonymous eyes continued to follow him around, Nathan could sense them, but he didn’t feel too intimidated anymore. Andy didn’t seem to care, so why would he? They went to the Gryffindor table talking about the Transfiguration assignment. Apparently, Andy had missed him enough that even homework was something he was willing to discuss this early on a weekend.

Nathan saw his mother already having breakfast, sitting by his father’s side. She smiled at him when she caught him looking; Professor Snape only returned the look, not changing his ever-bored expression. Well, Nathan thought it only fitting, for Professor Snape had never changed his way of acting all this time.

They took their seats and started to serve themselves. Kevin hadn’t spoken a word yet, but Nathan wasn’t letting his uneasiness at that show. He acted as if that newspaper had never arrived and talked animatedly with Andy. That was until talking was made difficult by the sound of the owls invading the hall.

Many of the birds went straight to where Nathan was, dropping letters over his breakfast. Another handful of them went to the Head Table, towards his parents, but he wasn’t paying attention to those. Since that one issue of the _Daily Prophet_ , Nathan’s amount of mail had increased enormously.

“That’s a lot of mail!” Andy observed.

“It’s been like this since that story about me on the _Daily Prophet_ ,” Nathan told him. “It seems I’m a celebrity now.” He laughed. Andy did, too.

“Are they asking for autographs?” Andy joked. 

“One or two are,” Nathan answered seriously. 

Andy’s eyes went wide. “What do the others say?” he wanted to know then.

“Most of them say how sorry they are for me. Others say I’m not to believe in what that article said, that my real father is Uncle Harry,” Nathan rolled his eyes, “and a couple say they were happy for me,” he finished.

“The same two who asked for autographs,” Kevin said, breaking his self-imposed silence.

When Nathan was going to answer that, a package fell between them.

“This one was late,” Andy pointed out holding the goblet that would have been where the package was dropped only a few moments ago hadn’t he taken it before. “It’s for you, Nathan.”

When Nathan reached to take the box and examine it, a bigger hand came out of nowhere and took it away. Nathan was so put out that he didn’t even think before he turned to meet the thief and said, “Hey! That’s mine!”

His father arched an eyebrow at him. Nathan’s eyes went wide for a brief moment before they narrowed.

“I’ll take the letters, too,” Snape said putting out his free hand, palm up, waiting. 

“They are for me,” Nathan said calmly to his father’s hand.

They went quiet, not moving, in a war of patience and stubbornness. All the students observed them, attentive. Snape grew tired of waiting and snatched away the letters from the table, mumbling to himself something Nathan couldn’t catch. This move shouldn’t have been unexpected, but Nathan was at a loss of what to do nonetheless. It took him a moment before reacting.

“Sir,” Nathan called, leaving his seat to follow the man, who was now fast approaching the Head Table. 

Snape didn’t stop.

“Professor,” he called again, annoyed, speeding up in his step to reach his father.

Snape finally stopped and turned to him.

“Why are you taking my mail?” Nathan asked, coming to stand before him.

“Do you know any of these people?” Professor Snape asked back, waving the letters in his hand.

“I don’t know, sir. You _stole_ them from me before I could read who they were from.” Nathan glared. His father was unaffected. “So what if I don’t know them? They're still addressed to me,” he tried again.

“They are still confiscated. From now on you won’t be opening any correspondence from unknown sources. Now, go back to your seat, Mr. Granger.”

“But-” Nathan’s argument died when he looked at his father’s menacing pose, arms crossed holding the package and the letters. There was no arguing, as Nathan should have known by now. He turned and went back to the Gryffindor table, fuming in rage.

“Who does he think he is to take away my letters?” Nathan murmured with himself, sitting next to Andy again.

“Your father,” the boy answered him.

Nathan shot him a murderous glare. Andy averted his eyes from Nathan’s and started to eat quietly. 

“He can’t come here and confiscate my mail!” Nathan protested, unable to keep quiet after such thing. “They were addressed to me, not him!” He bit savagely into a piece of toast and caught Kevin staring. “What?” he spat.

At the Head Table, someone else was staring, and it was not at Nathan. Hermione was trying to understand what had just occurred, looking intently at Severus.

“You’re gaping, Granger,” he told her, dropping the letters and the package next to his plate and resuming his seat.

She closed her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “What did you just do?”

“You said I should take care of the correspondence problem. I’m taking care of it.”

“You said you would talk to him about it, Severus. I didn’t see much talking going on,” she pointed out.

“If you didn’t like the way I handled this, you should have handled it yourself,” he retorted, eating scrambled eggs as if nothing was amiss, missing her roll of eyes.

Hermione took the pile of letters from next to his plate. He grabbed at them to prevent her from taking them, and they locked eyes. She hoped her look was showing her lack of tolerance for this childish fight. Maybe it was, because he let go with a sigh.

She went through the letters, reading the names on them. She stopped, suddenly, and moved a letter out of the pile, shaking her head, visibly irritated. When she had finished, she heard him say, “Satisfied?”

“There was a letter from Harry in the middle of them, but I’m not expecting you to know that. It’s not as if you looked or asked before taking them away.”

“How do you know there is no harm in that letter?” he asked arching an eyebrow.

“Oh, please!” She stood, taking said letter with her. She passed by him on her way out and was positive she heard him chuckling. _He thinks it funny, does he?_ Hermione wasn’t amused.

She reached Nathan and greeted his friends. 

“There was a letter from Harry for you,” she told her son. “I don’t suppose Severus explained why he was taking the letters, did he?”

“No, he didn’t,” Nathan answered, visibly annoyed, taking the letter from her hand.

“It’s for your safety,” she explained. “We’ll talk more about it later today or maybe tomorrow, during family dinner.”

“Family dinner?” Nathan asked.

“Yes. Every Sunday we’ll have dinner together. You can look for me in the lab and I’ll explain it all to you.”

She kissed his head and left the Great Hall. 

“Great,” Nathan mumbled opening his godfather’s letter.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan didn’t wear his uniform when he met his mother in her quarters on the third floor. They had agreed he would dress casually for their dinner together. Nathan couldn’t see why dressing in jeans, t-shirt and a sweater would make any difference in anything, but it seemed important to her.

Hermione was waiting by the door also wearing casual clothes; the crimson dress she liked to wear for going to the movies and a coat that looked like wizarding robes. She greeted him with a warm smile.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered, trying to ignore the discomfort in his stomach.

“Aren’t you wearing the necklace?” she asked next, evening the collars of his t-shirt and sweater so they would be in place with one another.

“No,” he said calmly. Seeing the look that always preceded a lengthy argument, he added, “I have it with me. I want to know how it works exactly before I’ll wear it again.”

“Very well,” she conceded, “as long as you’re willing to listen to his reasons.”

His mother had told him Professor Snape wanted him to wear the necklace that was his Christmas gift again, the same one he had taken off the day he had found out Snape was his father. She had also explained why Professor Snape was confiscating his mail, something Nathan was still suspicious about. This was the same reason why he hadn’t put the necklace back on yet. Despite his mother’s explanation, Nathan wanted to hear it from Professor Snape before making his decision. It seemed reasonable.

They made their way to the dungeons, where they would meet his father for dinner. Nathan wasn’t surprised, this time, when they passed by Professor Snape’s office door and went straight to the next, which Nathan now knew was his quarters. His mother knocked and soon the door opened.

“Good afternoon, Severus,” she greeted and was answered by a nod of the man’s head.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Nathan followed suit and received a nod for that as well.

Snape stood aside, holding the door open in invitation. They stepped in and waited to be told to sit down. When they were, Nathan took a seat next to his mother by the sofa, while his father sat in an armchair close to it, both facing the hearth.

Nathan was staring the fire, not knowing what else to do. He could sense the tension in the air, something that always made him feel uneasy. Coming in here had brought their last meeting to the forefront of his mind and it was like going through that all over again, the things that had been said and how. 

“You have an amazing collection of books, Severus,” his mother said, finally. Unfortunately, she added, “Don’t you think, Nathan?”

Nathan looked away from the fire, reluctantly, and took in the room. Two of the walls were covered with books from floor to ceiling, something he hadn’t paid much attention the last time he’d been there. It was an amazing collection of books. “Yes,” he agreed.

There was silence again.

“Did you read them all, Severus?” his mother asked, blessedly not to him.

“Most of them,” his father answered.

Nathan tried to catch some indication of Professor Snape’s mood by his voice, but couldn’t. It didn’t help him having his eyes fixed on his hands instead of the man’s face, but doing the last was out of question.

“We also have more books than we need, and I think Nathan’s read most of them, too. From all the books you’ve read, what would you call a favorite, Nathan?” 

There she was, asking him again, and such a tough question! “Er…” Nathan thought. “I couldn’t choose one.”

“Could you, Severus?”

Nathan took a deep breath with his mother’s change of target. This was worse than an oral test!

“No.”

That was definitely an irritated _no_. It seemed Professor Snape didn’t like the interrogation, either. Nathan heard his mother sigh.

“Fine! We’ll stare at the hearth for the rest of the evening!” she said.

Nathan looked at her. _Definitely annoyed_ , he concluded. He chanced a glance to his father, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose. _Definitely irritated_ , Nathan assumed. He looked down to his lap again, feeling engulfed by the awkwardness of the meeting, when he remembered the necklace in his pocket. He bit his lower lip and came to a decision, taking the object in his hand.

“I brought the necklace,” he announced quietly.

“You were supposed to be wearing it, not carrying it around,” his father told him, now looking at him.

“I want to know how it works before I’ll wear it again.”

“It lets me know when you’re in trouble,” the man said, as if that was enough explanation. 

Nathan wanted more. “How? I know the potion shows my mood, but I don’t think that would help me much.”

“Severus can see your mood, too. If you’re in danger, he’ll know and will be able to go to you to help,” his mother intervened.

“But how?” Nathan insisted.

Professor Snape stood up and walked through a door behind where Nathan sat. A few moments later, he came back with something in his hand. Nathan didn’t have to ask.

“This is a vial of the same potion you have on the necklace. They’re linked. Whatever color the necklace shows, it shows in here, too. If you get in trouble, I’ll know.”

“Why do you think I’ll get in trouble?” It seemed odd they would be thinking and talking about it all the time. 

“You’re a Gryffindor,” Snape said, “that’s what you do.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes at his father, but his mother's laughter made him look at her, puzzled.

“Sorry,” she apologized and took a deep breath to sober herself. “Your father and I have people that may want to cause us harm, due to the war. We’re concerned that, with the exposure you’re getting, someone would try to harm you somehow, to get to us.” She looked very serious now. “We want you as safe as possible, and if someone really dares to get to you, we’ll be there to deal with the imbecile.”

“Is that why I can’t read my mail, either?” Nathan asked.

“We can’t assume your letters are harmless,” Professor Snape answered.

“You could have said so before,” Nathan told his father.

“He should have,” his mother agreed, earning a glare from his father.

“And I know how to defend myself from mere letters,” Nathan added.

“If you so badly want to know how sorry people are for you, by all means, have them back,” Professor Snape said.

“There were a couple of them from people happy for me,” he countered. “And I don’t want them back; you can keep them, sir. I’m just saying I can defend myself.”

Professor Snape stood again. “Then you won’t need this anymore,” he said, taking the necklace from Nathan’s hand.

Nathan was taken by surprise. He wanted to stand up for himself, but he didn’t want the necklace taken from him. It was a Christmas gift!

Hermione seemed to understand what was going through his mind and interfered. “Oh, please. Honestly!” She stood and took the necklace from Severus’ hand. “Put this on, Nathan.”

Nathan obeyed. The pendant glowed gold, and so did the flask in Snape’s hand. 

“I think we should eat now,” she added, leaving the sitting area to go to the small table on a corner of the room. Nathan followed, not wanting to stay behind with his father, who didn’t take long to join them.

The food was served by a house-elf Snape summoned as soon as they were seated at the table. They ate in an awkward silence, quickly, and the dinner was soon over. 

“We’ll meet again next week,” his mother told Professor Snape, who nodded, tiredly. “Nathan, you’ll meet Severus again on Wednesday evening, just the two of you. I suppose it would be good to settle a time and place now.”

Nathan’s mouth went dry. A meeting without his mother? Nathan wasn’t looking forward to it.

“My office at seven,” Snape told him, and it so sounded like a detention to him.

“Yes, sir,” was his automatic response.

“Good evening, Severus,” Hermione said.

They left. Nathan felt tired. It was as if the muscles of his shoulders had collapsed from their bones, melted. All he wanted was to get to his bed and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, it’s not easy, but I have faith in those three. :0)
> 
> I forgot to squee about an art Miateixeira made for this story as a Christmas gift for me. Well, it’s never late to squee, so SQUEEEEEEE! *lol*
> 
> Ah, yes! The link: http://ferporcel.livejournal.com/55189.html
> 
> And since I'm already squeeing, I'll squee some more for the betas' sake. SQUEEEEEE! Gin and Indy, you're wonderful! Thanks. :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** More scheduled meetings, and some not at all planned.


	24. Needing More than a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More scheduled meetings, and some not at all planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Indigofeathers – thank you very much!

Nathan was trying to follow Professor Lupin’s advice and move on with his life. He’d found the professor on his way up to Gryffindor Tower after Sunday’s meeting, and Lupin had asked him how things had been, seeming genuinely interested, so Nathan had told him. Professor Lupin was someone Nathan was starting to trust with these things, and Wednesday’s scheduled meeting left him in need of advice, so why not Professor Lupin? It had helped. Maybe the previous dinner had had something to do with it, too, being so awkward for all three of them, not only Nathan. He’d realized, with Professor Lupin’s help, that things couldn’t get worse than they already were in a way. Professor Snape was still the same old Professor Snape. His mother was still the same loving and caring mother she’d always been, if a little more anxious and worried than usual. Shockingly, he was the same boy he’d ever been, too. Even Andy was acting the same.

Nathan had been worried for nothing, or almost nothing. The rest of the school was still acting like things had changed, just as he’d thought they had. They were wrong, he knew now. Okay, not entirely wrong, he had to admit. He now had a father everyone knew, and that changed a few things. But thinking more clearly, Nathan was sure this couldn’t be so different from all the times people found out he didn’t know his father, or it could be even better now, because not having a father was worse than having Professor Snape as a father, much worse. Nathan was positive that things could only improve from now on, and it was a relief.

He’d slept late that Sunday, but slept soundly like he hadn’t in a while. He’d awakened rested and ready for the first week of the rest of his life. Monday’s Potions class would act on his behalf, Nathan was sure. True to his belief, Professor Snape lectured, asked questions; they were assigned a potion to brew and asked to deliver a vial for evaluation, just like he had in most of their previous classes. Nathan could feel the level of anticipation amongst the other students, especially the Slytherins, but he knew his father would act no differently now than he had in all the classes before; Professor Snape had done as much on other occasions. 

_Thank you, Professor Snape_ , Nathan thought after they were dismissed, for after class, Jose came to talk to him.

“He still didn’t give you any points for answering that question.” 

“I wouldn’t expect him to,” Nathan answered. 

“He didn’t even talk to you after the class,” Jose added, seeming puzzled with the occurrence.

“There was nothing to be said.” Nathan shrugged, smiling on the inside. “You seem surprised by that.”

“Well, he’s your father, isn’t he?” Jose told him. “I thought… I don’t know… that maybe he would be… nice to you.”

Nathan actually smiled with that one and started to laugh – a real laugh. Jose looked even more confused, and Nathan felt it better to explain.

“Professor Snape is still Professor Snape, Jose, especially during classes. He was never nice, so why would he start now?” He shook his head to emphasize the absurdity of the thought. 

“I just thought….”

“Nothing has changed. I think we’re running late for Defense,” Nathan said, and they went to the next class of the day. 

During lunch, Andy wanted to know details of Sunday’s dinner. Nathan told him some of what had passed, explaining the necklace. Andy approved of his decision to wear it again, but Kevin, although he remained around for the meals and most of the classes, was still uncomfortable with the situation, and his opposition to Nathan wearing the necklace became all too evident.

“Snape is spying on you through this thing,” he said.

“He’s not. He’s watching over me, there is a difference, Kevin,” Nathan felt the need to retort, defending his father.

“Well, if what you said to Jose after Potions today is true and nothing has changed, Snape can only be spying on you.”

“Professor Snape has been watching over me, or better yet, all of us, since the day we stepped foot inside this castle. Do you forget that he’d saved me long before this father thing happened?”

Andy was nodding. Kevin didn’t say anything against that argument. It was not as if he could deny what Nathan said anyway.

And more Gryffindors relaxed around him, too. It seemed that Jose and Andy had some influence after all. Of course, they no longer spoke of the teachers when Nathan was around, and he only knew that because they were not as careful as to who heard their conversations or didn’t in the common room. Nathan even caught them speaking of him once or twice, but although this was an annoying change, he couldn’t make himself care that much.

Re-reading the _files_ could be accounted for contributing to this change in attitude, too. Having Wednesday’s meeting looming over him made Nathan take out the rolls of parchment he’d written months ago when researching Snape’s life for any dark secret that would make the man say who his father was. 

Such irony. 

At the time, Nathan had two different sets of parchments: _the Snape files_ and _the Dad files_. It ended up that he didn’t need to have those separate. 

Ironic, indeed. 

But it was good he’d made them different parchments then. Now he could look at them with a new perspective. It was intriguing to confront what people had said of his father and what he’d found out about Professor Snape through research. If one read the descriptions and facts without knowing they accounted for the same wizard, one would not guess. Perhaps the part of his father being a determined man was fitting to the role Professor Snape had played in the war, although being considered a friend by Albus Dumbledore… That was still quite surprising and also a great contradiction. 

Nathan was curious of how those pieces would fit in the same puzzle. Who was Professor Snape? Who was his father? How did these two people merge into one? Nathan couldn’t quite figure that out yet. Yes, meeting with him outside the classroom was awkward and nerve-wracking, but maybe it would help him put the puzzle together. His mother had said he would get to know his father now, that the meetings wouldn’t be detentions but opportunities to have quality time together. Nathan didn’t know how that was possible yet, but he could see some benefits in the dreaded meetings now.

And Wednesday arrived. Despite the two days resembling normalcy, Nathan was nervous by the time he knocked on the door of the Potions master’s office. 

“Enter.”

“Good evening, Professor Snape.”

“Good evening.”

That was a first. Professor Snape had never answered one of his greetings with actual words. But he hadn’t looked up from the parchment he was apparently grading. Nathan moved closer to the desk the man was occupying to peek. Yes, that bottle of red ink couldn’t have been for anything else but grading. Nathan waited until Professor Snape finished and rested the quill on the desk. The man entwined his fingers and placed his hands on the same desktop, looking at Nathan, who looked up from the man’s hands to his face.

They stared at each other for a quick moment, and Professor Snape looked briefly down. Nathan followed his gaze to his necklace.

“It’s blue,” Nathan stated, looking back at his father.

“I can see that.”

“Which means I’m not in trouble,” Nathan added.

Snape’s expression was hard to interpret. He rose from his chair and bypassed the desk, coming to stand beside Nathan. They locked eyes again before Professor Snape said, “Come.”

Nathan followed his father out of the office and down the corridor to the professor’s quarters. On the short walk, they passed some Slytherins walking back to their common room, and Nathan felt relentless eyes on him, one pair lingering longer – Malfoy’s. 

Professor Snape opened the door and Nathan followed quickly inside. He sighed when the door closed behind him.

“Intimidated, are we?” Professor Snape asked.

“No,” Nathan answered in the wake of the accusation. He wasn’t, was he? It was just the uneasiness of being watched. “I don’t like the attention,” he added, looking everywhere but at the man beside him.

“Of course.”

Professor Snape moved to set a fire in the hearth, illuminating the room further. When he proceeded to the desk at a corner and set about rummaging through some books, Nathan asked, still standing near the door, “Why did you bring me here?”

Professor Snape didn’t look away from what he was doing. “Your mother thought you might want to see my books.”

 _Mum, of course_ , Nathan thought. He looked away from his father and around the room, paying more attention to the walls covered with books. Nathan approached the nearest shelf and ran his eyes over the tomes, reading a title here and there. The first set of books was related to Potions. They were basic textbooks, advanced ones, books about potions for one or other specific purpose, and went as far as bordering on Herbology with tomes about the use of plants in potions. That was all he found on the smaller wall beside the door they’d come in from.

Nathan chanced a glance at Professor Snape and saw him on his feet, bending over the desk, writing something. Nathan headed for the next wall of books. It was hard to read the title of some tomes, especially those on the top shelf, but it wasn’t that hard to deduce that they were still potions-making themed, although now they bordered on Charms. Soon they were exclusively about spells, enchantments, curses and counter-curses…. Some were ethically dubious, at the very least, such as _Curse Your Enemies_ and _Fighting with Magic – Curses and Counter-curses_. These shelves ended at a door, the same door Professor Snape had used on Sunday.

Nathan could see Professor Snape still busy with his own things and went for the books on the other side of the doorway. There were more on curses and counter-curses, although now amongst books about Dark creatures. Nathan wondered why there were so many books about werewolves. 

Now the titles were getting more difficult to read; some were missing altogether, others in languages Nathan didn’t know. Intriguing and captivating, Nathan thought, and his curiosity was piqued. He went further and saw books that were definitely Dark. _Manipulating with Magic_ , _Irreversible Hexes and Curses_ , more books he couldn’t read the title of, _Entrapping Souls_ , _Enchanting the Blood_ , _Painful Potions_ , _Captivity and Dominance by Blood Magic_ …

Even Muggles knew blood magic was something to be feared, there were movies about it. Nathan wondered how powerful they really were…

 _Torturing Curses_ …

Had his father ever cast the Cruciatus Curse? Probably. Nathan thought back to all he knew about Professor Snape and decided he’d definitely cast Unforgivables more than once. 

_Blood Relations and Related Hexes_ …

Hexing family members? Why would someone want to hex a relative? Was it what that book was about? Nathan reached out for it.

“These books are not for you.” 

Nathan was startled and turned to face his father, withdrawing his hand. _How did he get here? He was by the desk just now_.

“Unless you feel like killing me,” his father added.

Nathan stared at him wide-eyed. Professor Snape stared back, nothing evident in his expression. Nathan shook his head in denial and lowered his eyes. When his father didn’t say more, but continued where he stood, Nathan felt he was expecting something from him. 

“I didn’t know what the book was about, sir,” Nathan tried.

“You’ve been more convincing in your lies before.”

 _I’m not lying!_ He looked up to his father’s face. “It’s true,” he affirmed. 

“That was almost convincing.”

Nathan clenched his hands. “You told me I could look at the books.”

“These are Dark Arts books.”

“I know, sir,” Nathan answered the unspoken question.

“From all the other books I have here, the only one you reached out for was this one, Mr. Granger. Is that what you want? To become a Dark wizard?” his father asked, face inscrutable even with the accusation present in his words.

“Well, you’re a Dark wizard, aren’t you?” Nathan answered back defensively. 

His father’s eyes changed, and Professor Snape straightened his shoulders. “You should go to your common room,” he said dismissively.

“You always send me away. Why do we even bother with these meetings?” Nathan said, frustrated. He turned to leave and was halfway to the exit when…

“Nathan.”

His breath caught. _Nathan? Not Mr. Granger?_ He didn’t dare look back or move forward.

“How do you like your tea?”

 _Tea?_ Nathan looked over his shoulder to his father, not believing what he was hearing. Professor Snape held his eyes for a moment and then went about Transfiguring a tea set on a small side-table. Nathan turned to him fully, watching his wand work. “Milk and sugar,” he finally answered, walking to the couch.

Professor Snape poured the brew into two cups and added milk and sugar to one of them, which he handed to Nathan. 

“Thank you, sir.” Nathan accepted the warm cup, still a little confused to what was going on. Professor Snape took the other and settled himself on an armchair. Nathan sat on the couch and sipped at his tea, simply to have something to do.

Professor Snape stared at him from over his cup. Their eyes locked, and Nathan took another sip before saying, “We have the same eyes.”

His father’s eyes never left his while he sipped once, twice before agreeing, “So we do.”

“And the same hair,” Nathan added. This conversation was doing things to his stomach, and he knew it had nothing to do with the tea. 

“The color, perhaps,” Professor Snape said.

“It’s not only the color.” Nathan chanced a half-smile. His hair got greasy faster than usual.

They finished their tea in companionable silence. Nathan thought it had been the warmest tea he’d drunk in Hogwarts, or he felt warmer for other reasons he couldn’t fully understand. All he knew was that he didn’t want this moment to end just now. He smiled at the hearth. “Maybe we have more things in common we don’t know yet.”

“Why would you like that?” his father asked.

Nathan shrugged and then looked at him. “Do you think I’ll ever be a good potions brewer like you?”

Professor Snape regarded him. “If you apply yourself...”

Nathan smiled at him. “And a dueler?”

“I never saw you cast more than Alohomoha and heating and cooling spells,” Professor Snape told him.

“I can levitate things. I was the first to do so in my class, actually. Professor Flitwick said I was a natural.” Nathan grinned. “I can show you,” he told his father, taking his wand from his pocket.

Nathan straightened his shoulders and waved his wand. “ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” he intoned perfectly, and the empty cup floated in the air. 

“Look at me,” his father called.

Nathan did so, and the floating cup crashed on the stone floor. He looked back at it, frowning, embarrassed at his failure. Professor Snape cast silent spells and the cup was whole and on the small table again.

“When you learn a spell, try to cast it in different circumstances, such as without eye contact with the target. There is more to Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts than the teachers tell you in class.” Professor Snape stood. “Come, I’ll walk you to your common room.”

“I know the way, sir,” Nathan assured him. “Good evening.” He nodded without facing Professor Snape, still embarrassed, and turned for the door.

~o0oOo0o~

The fire burning in the hearth of Severus’ office went green and the Headmistress’ floating head appeared there. “Severus,” she called.

“Minerva,” he answered with a nod.

“Draco Malfoy is here with me and wishes to see you.”

Severus frowned. “Send him through.”

Minerva’s head disappeared, and soon Draco was standing in his office, brushing ashes from his coat. “Good afternoon, Severus.”

“Draco.” Severus nodded. “Would you care for something to drink?”

“Tea is fine,” the blond man answered, taking a seat on one of the armchairs.

Severus Conjured the tea set and offered a filled cup to his unexpected visitor. Taking his place behind the desk, he asked, “What brings you to Hogwarts?” He took a cup for himself.

Draco drank from the warm tea and rested the cup on Severus’ desk before answering, “The Granger boy.”

Severus was not surprised. “What about him?”

“Should I call him the Snape boy?” Draco teased almost accusingly.

“His name is Granger,” Severus answered.

“But it’s common knowledge that he’s also a Snape. You haven’t denied it.”

“No, I haven’t.” Severus saw Draco’s eyes narrow. “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s a Granger.”

“Why her, Severus? Why Potter’s insufferable sidekick? I can understand your desire to hide such relationship from the wizarding world, but to hide it from me…?”

“There was no relationship,” Severus answered annoyed. “And where did you get the assumption that you were my confidant?”

“You have a son Devon’s age!” 

“He’s older than Devon.”

Draco thought through the implications of that. “You used Granger during the war.”

Severus would not disagree with that. He’d used her, and the war had been in full rage then.

“Why didn’t you cast a contraception charm?”

The same question he’d asked himself several times since the day he’d realized the boy’s black eyes mirrored his. Severus still didn’t have an answer to that, so he kept silent.

“You never acknowledged him in all these years, why now?” Draco continued interrogating.

“He’s still a Granger.”

“Devon told me you meet with them on regular basis.”

 _Why the insistence?_ Severus thought. “What do you want, Draco?”

“I want to know why you have a son and I’m the last to know!” Draco’s scowl didn’t grace his aristocratic features. “You’re the only friend I have. I trust you with my life. I entrusted the best of me, my son, to you! You know how much this means to me.” Draco rose to his feet and was pacing in front of the desk.

“And you think I betrayed this trust,” Severus finished. “I haven’t, Draco.”

Their eyes locked, appraising. Draco seemed almost as if afraid he wasn’t telling the truth. Severus held his frightened, angry gaze with respectful steadiness. The grayness of Draco’s eyes fell back beneath his lashes when they were painfully closed in a frown. 

“I would have wanted to meet your son, Severus, regardless of the mother,” Draco confessed.

Severus chuckled. When Draco opened his eyes and looked at him again, he said, “So would I.”

“Don’t try to deceive me, Severus.”

“I’m not trying to deceive you. I didn’t know I had a son until recently; Granger hid him from me, the stupid chit!” Severus let contempt color his voice and saw the surprise on Draco’s face. “A few months ago, when the boy told me he didn’t know his father, I looked him over and figured it out.” He let his rage with such a situation show, and the blond wizard nodded after looking straight into his eyes for a moment.

“I’ll kill Granger when I see her,” Draco said, falling back into the armchair. 

Severus appreciated the sentiment, but not as he did months ago. No, he wasn’t about to forgive her for what she did, but he didn’t need to see her dead to feel avenged. She’d raised Nathan, kept him when Severus knew he wouldn’t have, and… Severus was fond of the boy.

The contemplative silence was broke by Draco. “I met the boy in Diagon Alley, when I was buying Devon’s supplies. I don’t think he knew who I was.”

“I don’t think he did then,” Severus agreed. “She’s raised him in the Muggle world.”

“I’m sorry, Severus,” Draco said with genuine sorrow. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Severus shook his head. Draco was a pure-blood and would never understand Muggles and their world. It was fruitless to try and convince him that being raised amongst Muggles was not the worse thing that could happen to a wizard. Draco didn’t believe in the purity of blood anymore, but that didn’t mean he was a Muggle lover, either.

“I would like to meet him properly one of these days. Did Granger spoil him beyond fixing? Devon told me he’s a Gryffindor, which is damage enough,” Draco commented.

“I’m,” Severus hesitated, he hadn’t expected that from Draco, “still getting to know him myself.”

Draco nodded.

“Dinner is being served in the Great Hall, will you join me?” Severus asked, trying to shake off the uncomfortable moment, standing up to leave.

“I’ll have to decline your invitation. Pansy is waiting for me.” Draco stood as well and extended a hand to Severus, who accepted the courtesy, shaking it. “I’ll walk with you to the Great Hall; I want to see Devon before I leave.”

It was Severus’ time to nod, and they continued to the Great Hall.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione opened her apartment door. 

“Harry?”

“I know it’s a little late for a visit, but we can’t meet on weekends and I work late,” he started apologizing.

Hermione was surprised by the visit. Last time she’d seen Harry, she’d been really mad at him and harsh words had been spoken. Not that she felt ashamed for the things she’d said to her best friend in the moment of rage, mind you, and she wasn’t about to apologize. Somehow, Hermione knew Harry wasn’t there in search of an apology, or explanations even, and that was what surprised her about him looking for her.

She let him in and joined him on the couch. 

“What brings you here, Harry?” Hermione asked, not wasting time with pleasantries.

Harry took a deep breath. “I’m worried about Nathan. How is he?” he asked, and Hermione knew it was his heart asking.

“He’s doing fine,” she answered. “We’re trying to work things out after the mess you’ve made; we’ll succeed… eventually.” The last word came out in a much lower voice.

Sunday’s dinner left Hermione worried about how long she would take to fix all the damage done to Nathan. His relationship with Severus was very fragile and resented, more than she thought it was. 

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I….”

Hermione interrupted Harry’s search for new words of apology. “Was there anything else you wished to talk about?”

Harry averted his eyes to his lap, visibly uncomfortable with her down-to-business response to his visit. “Skeeter will step back from further investigation of Nathan’s case.”

“Won’t she be fired for using what she heard from you without your authorization?” Hermione asked indignantly.

“No,” Harry confirmed, showing his annoyance in his tone. “Apparently, publishing unauthorized information is not considered gossiping and speculating when…” The next words Harry said were hushed and murmured. 

Hermione didn’t understand them. “What was that?”

“They are not considered gossip and speculation when the source is known.” He sighed. “They pointed out that I was the source and that the information was true. At least they agreed to drop Skeeter from the case and to have no more about Nathan published if I…” Harry sighed again, “write a weekly column on Quidditch during this year’s season and… agreed to an exclusive interview with Skeeter.” 

“And you agreed, of course,” Hermione pressed.

Harry appeared visibly hurt. “Of course.” 

Hermione smiled. “Serves you right for meddling in other people’s business.” 

“I’m sorry, Hermione.” Harry had a pained look about his face.

Hermione sighed. “I know you are, but I’m still mad at you.”

“What can I do to make things right again between us?” he asked, pleading.

Hermione brought a hand to rub at her temple. “Go home, Harry.”

“Please, Hermione. I love you, and I love Nathan. I….” He paused to find the words. “I wasn’t thinking. I never meant to make the situation worse for Nathan, or for you. I would never hurt you, Hermione. You’re the sister I’ve never had, and you know it. Nathan is more than a nephew would be….” Harry reached for Hermione’s hand, squeezing it. “Please,” he asked again, staring into her eyes.

“I don’t hate you, Harry,” she admitted softly. “It’s just that right now I can’t look at you and not remember what a mess you’ve made.” Her hand was squeezed again. “Nathan looks up to you, and you know that. Your hatred for Severus…” Hermione tried to control her temper, before completing, “doesn’t help him. I’ve been trying hard to prevent them from hating each other all this time, only to have you destroy years of work!” 

“I won’t get in the way again,” Harry said, trying to reassure her.

“Damn right you won’t!” she hissed, a threatening finger directed at Harry. Hermione turned from him, breathing slowly to calm herself. She wanted to hex him, but deep inside she knew Harry was suffering more than hexes could make him, and that was far from comforting.

A crushing silence settled over them until Harry said, “I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, it was like I was living a nightmare. Snape was the father of the sweet kid that is Nathan…. I still can’t think of you and that… about how that was even possible, worse yet the truth.” When she didn’t interrupt him, Harry continued, “Snape hurt me from the day I met him. How can I let that happen to Nathan?”

“It won’t happen. I do understand what you did, but that doesn’t change the fact that I asked you not to interfere,” Hermione reminded him, looking Harry in the eyes, but she averted them to her lap when she added, “I know what I’m doing.” Hermione needed to believe her own words.

“You give Snape too much credit.”

“I give Severus due credit.” She looked at Harry again.

“And yet you hid Nathan from him.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” Hermione warned. 

“Why did you do that then, if not because of Snape?” Harry insisted.

“This falls into the none-of-your-business category.” She glared at Harry. “And don’t look at me like that! I’m still angry with you. It’s late, and I have a meeting in the morning, so if you don’t mind….”

Harry clenched his jaw and swallowed his questions. He left without another word.

~o0oOo0o~

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_.”

A spoon levitated for the umpteenth time as quills, books, chess pieces had done all day, all week since Thursday. Nathan’s failure on Levitating the cup on Wednesday had led to a compulsion towards the spell. In a few days he’d been casting it without looking at the subject, but concentrating hard to maintain the something in the air. Now, Nathan could eat scrambled eggs and Levitate a spoon, although it would respond to gravity after a while. 

He wanted to prove to Professor Snape he was a capable wizard. It was still Saturday. He would have almost the whole weekend to practice before showing his father what he could do. That was why Nathan was heading to the library alone after breakfast instead of following Andy and Kevin outside to the Quidditch pitch. He didn’t have time to watch Gryffindor training; Nathan had some training of his own to be doing.

Maintaining the levitation spell while almost completely concentrated on something else was tricky, and Nathan was still having trouble with it. Reading and casting the spell at the same time was how he trained for such situations. He chose an empty table, put his copy of _Hogwarts, a History_ on it, and opened the book about Goblin Wars he’d been reading. Holding his wand, he spoke quietly, “ _Wingardium Leviosa_.” Hogwarts, a History rose several inches from the table. Satisfied, Nathan carefully took his eyes from the floating book and started reading while trying not to forget what he was doing simultaneously, never lowering his wand.

Several pages ahead on his reading, Nathan was still holding the spell, until his wand went cold, losing the warmth associated with channeling magic. He looked up from his reading and was surprised to meet grey eyes staring at him. Devon Malfoy held the book he’d been levitating. _How did he get here?_ Nathan had been so lost in concentration that he’d never seen Malfoy approaching.

“That book is mine,” Nathan stated.

“Madam Pince wouldn’t be happy if she knew you were mistreating books,” Malfoy said.

“Give me the book back,” Nathan demanded, adjusting his grip on his wand.

“Or what?” Malfoy challenged.

Nathan ran a list of hexes in his mind. “What do you want, Malfoy?” he asked, letting his annoyance show.

“I just wanted to remind you that I don’t care what people say, you’ll never be worthy of Professor Snape.”

“And I don’t care what _you_ say. Now, give me my book back.” Nathan pointed his wand at his opponent. 

“He’ll never take you seriously, _Granger_. You don’t have what is needed. You’re just too pathetic,” Malfoy said, letting the book fall to the table top, the noise drawing attention to them.

Nathan lowered his wand, not wanting to be caught in the act of almost hexing another student, as had happened before. Malfoy was halfway to the door when Nathan turned his attention to him again and sighed in frustration.

He resumed his activities, but found he wasn’t able to concentrate fully. Madam Pince was looking cross with him at the third time the book hit the table, disturbing her library. That only added to his irritation. Nathan didn’t need to hear he wasn’t worthy of being Professor Snape’s son, especially not from Malfoy, who he knew was his godson. Thinking about the things Malfoy surely knew about his father – which Nathan couldn’t even begin to imagine…. He was feeling unworthy indeed.

Maybe that was what Professor Snape was trying to tell him when the cup crashed. Maybe Nathan wasn’t even smart enough to catch his meaning….

Nathan shook his head to send those thoughts away. Professor Snape had invited him to drink tea, even calling him by his given name; he’d told him he could be a potions brewer as good as he was one day. 

Nathan was worthy, and he would prove it.

~o0oOo0o~

“Severus, why is Nathan levitating things all the time?” Hermione asked him after answering his nod of a greeting with a “Good afternoon”.

It was Saturday, and they were in the lab. She was working on her project, and he’d just come in to fetch something from his desk there.

“Is he?” Severus asked in answer, not seeming much interested, shuffling about one of the piles of parchments on the desk.

“You know he is; you saw him in the Great Hall,” she told him matter-of-factly. “Do you know why?”

“Maybe he’s practicing,” he suggested, not giving much importance to her question, or wanting her to believe he wasn’t giving it importance, she realized.

“Maybe something happened on Wednesday,” Hermione countered after that.

He shuffled about another pile of parchments and apparently found what he came looking for. He straightened from the desk, a roll of parchment in hand, and said, “Maybe.”

Severus was gone before she could react to that. “Insufferable man,” she cursed under her breath. Nathan hadn’t stopped ten minutes to talk to her properly, leaving her curious as to what had passed on Wednesday, and now this! Hermione shook her head and tried not to think about that anymore; she hated being left in the dark, and they both knew that.

~o0oOo0o~

“Mum, are those what I think they are?” Nathan asked when Hermione emerged from her quarters carrying two large books.

“Yes.”

Nathan groaned, but Hermione didn’t mind. She had planned this quite carefully during the week and was positive it would have a good result.

Soon they were at Severus’ door, being welcomed by the Potions master himself. They walked in and were asked to take seats on the couch. 

“How was your week?” Hermione asked, trying to start a conversation.

“Tiring,” Severus answered simply.

“Teaching is tiring,” Hermione agreed after waiting a moment to see if he would elaborate. She had to remind herself to be patient, or else this dinner would turn out to be like last week’s.

She saw Severus looking at the books she’d brought with her as if trying to guess what they were. Hermione decided it was a good time to enlighten him. “I’ve brought some photos. I thought we could see them before dinner.”

Nathan sighed, slouching down on the couch. Hermione turned to him. “What’s so terrible about it, anyway?”

He gave her “the look”. She smiled at him and turned to Severus, who was watching them intently. “I think it’s better if you sit beside me, so I can explain the pictures,” Hermione suggested.

 

Severus hesitated while he tried to find a good reason to refuse her invitation. He found none, so he had to comply. He sat by her, though as far away as he could. 

“I think we should start with the Muggle album. What do you think, Nathan?” Granger asked their son.

“I vote for none,” Nathan mumbled in response.

She simply opened the first album without commenting on the boy’s answer. Three unmoving pictures covered the page. 

“These are the first pictures of Nathan. My parents took them when we were still in the hospital after he was born,” she commented. “He was so cute.”

The cute comment made Severus want to roll his eyes. Nathan wasn’t so restrained…

“I was not cute. I looked like a Mandrake.”

Severus smirked – a suppressed smile.

“You were and still are very cute,” Granger said, and it seemed to be a constant quarrel between them. She turned the page. 

“Here we’re already at my parents’ house. We stayed with them for the first weeks,” she commented.

Severus thought Nathan looked more like the cute baby she claimed he had been. He wore a yellow overall with a bear on it and was smiling toothlessly for the camera. He was so tiny…. On the other picture, Nathan was being held by Granger and seemed to be sleeping. The look on the picture-woman’s face while gazing at the bundle in her arms could only be described as tender awe. _She was so young_ ….

Granger turned the page. “This is me trying to bathe him,” she told him amused. “He never liked it very much, and it was always a struggle. Even now,” she added, obviously teasing Nathan.

Severus saw a very young and wet Granger trying to hold a very irritated Nathan inside a small bathtub. Severus stared at the picture and started to wonder if he would have managed the task. It seemed like a mess, and he was certain he wouldn’t have wanted to be part of the activity.

“Isn’t it enough humiliation to show me naked?” Nathan mumbled.

Granger sighed and turned the page. Nathan seemed older in the pictures now, and so did she.

“These are from his first birthday party.”

Not many people featured in the pictures, but it was the first time he saw Potter and the Weasleys in any of them. Nathan seemed happy in Potter’s arms; they were all smiling. Potter aside, Severus was glad Nathan had had a party for his first birthday.

The next pages were filled with pictures of Nathan standing, taking baby steps, making a mess while eating on his own for the first time, and mostly laughing near his mother. She was always smiling or laughing, always happy. If Severus were to be in those pictures, would they be so happy? Would Severus?

All he knew was that he would have wanted to be beside them during those happy moments. 

Granger turned the page, and there was a curious picture. Severus leaned to see and only then realized how close he’d gotten to her in the course of the activity. She didn’t seem to mind. 

“Is that a cast on his arm?” Severus asked, puzzled.

“Yes,” she answered. “He fell while he was playing in the school’s playground and broke his arm. When I got there, the doctor had already put a cast on it. I healed it as soon as we came home, but he had to keep the cast for the time the doctor had prescribed, much to his annoyance, or it would have seemed suspicious.”

“Of course,” Severus agreed.

“It itched,” Nathan added, pained at the memory.

More pages, more smiles, and another picture puzzled Severus. “What’s that supposed to be?”

Granger turned to look at him, and their arms touched. She didn’t seem to mind that, either.

“It’s when Nathan played John Darling from Peter Pan in the school play,” Granger clarified. She was still resting her arm against his.

Severus frowned both at her coziness and the unrecognizable costume.

“Mum made the costume. It was the worst,” Nathan explained, interpreting his frown correctly.

Severus chuckled. “Hermione Granger bad at something? Hell must have frozen!” Severus said and only then realized what he was doing. _Why am I teasing her?_

“It was not that bad!” she protested.

Nathan arched an eyebrow at her, although Severus wasn’t paying much attention to the interaction anymore. With her protest, she’d made the space between them vanish, and now, in addition to their arms, their knees were touching, the fine fabric of her skirt making it even more intimate.

“It’s getting late for dinner,” Severus stated coldly and rose from the couch. He could see the confusion on Granger’s face – it wasn’t that late – but Severus would not elaborate. He snapped his fingers, and a house-elf popped into the room. “You may serve dinner,” he commanded.

They followed him to the table. Nathan didn’t seem to care about the change, but his mother was still looking at Severus in a searching way. She didn’t voice her thoughts, which was a good thing. They started eating in silence, not as uncomfortable as the one that had accompanied them last week. Severus thought the meal would end in silence, when Granger interrupted it. 

“I didn’t see you much the whole weekend. What were you doing that kept you from even helping me in the lab?” she asked Nathan.

“I was busy,” the boy answered vaguely.

“Were you studying for some test? I don’t remember one so early in the term,” she insisted.

“Kind of.” Again, Nathan’s answer was vague.

Severus was finding their interaction interesting and was getting curious himself. Nathan was blatantly trying to hide something from his mother and maybe him.

“Why have you been levitating things all the time?” she finally asked, and Severus knew that was where she was heading for all along.

“I was practicing,” Nathan said, echoing Severus’ cryptic answer to the same question earlier that day, and quickly added, “Are we going to see more photos?” changing the subject.

Severus was smirking when Granger looked at him again, searching. He sobered. 

“I don’t think so,” she said after waiting for some kind of answer from him.

“Maybe we should retire for the evening,” Severus suggested.

Nathan nodded and stood from the table, waiting for his mother to do the same. She reluctantly did, but instead of heading for the door, she kissed Nathan and said, “Have a good week, honey. I have some things to discuss with your father before I go.”

Nathan nodded and bid Severus good night, leaving him alone with his mother.

“What is it?” Severus asked.

“That was what I was going to ask. What happened? You seemed to be enjoying the photos.”

“As I said, it was getting late, and if you don’t mind, I want to be well rested for the week,” he tried to dismiss her.

Granger stared at him for another moment and apparently decided to respect his position. “In any case, this evening was a great improvement from last week’s. Nathan was much more relaxed around you, and I think it has to do with whatever happened on Wednesday. I told you could do it. Well done, Severus,” she commended, smiling.

He couldn’t see how Wednesday’s meeting had something to do with Nathan’s change in attitude besides the practice of the charm he’d performed that day. He chose not to comment, waiting for her to leave; her faith in him was always unsettling.

“I’ll leave the albums with you. I hope you’ll have some time during the week to see the rest of the photos,” she told him, and the hesitation in turning her back to leave was evident. 

Severus stiffened his posture, guarded; she was always unpredictable when she looked at him like that. Granger seemed to realize his change in posture and dropped her eyes from his face. “I’ll see you next week,” she said before turning and heading out from his quarters.

Granger was dangerous, he decided.

~o0oOo0o~*

Nathan had practiced hard. He was confident that he could prove himself a good spell caster now. He was counting the hours for his meeting with his father this Wednesday. Nathan felt he needed the reassurance after so many bitter remarks from Malfoy about his not being worthy of Professor Snape’s attention. 

Already at his father’s quarters, Nathan sat by the hearth and accepted the offered tea; it seemed this would become their Wednesday meetings’ schedule. They were silent while they enjoyed the warm brew, but as soon as Nathan was finished, he told Professor Snape, “I’ve been practicing the levitation spell, as you might have noticed, sir.”

“Indeed, I have,” Snape said. 

Nathan took that as an encouragement to continue, “I thought about what you said last week, and there was really more to the spell than what we’ve learned in Charms.”

Nathan stood from the couch and took his wand in his hand. Without further explanation, he intoned, “ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” and the teacup floated in the air. Without being asked to, Nathan took his eyes from the flying object and fixed them on his father, smiling a victorious smile.

“Can you chat and maintain the spell?” Professor Snape asked, his expression unaffected by Nathan’s display of magic.

“Yes, I can,” Nathan answered, never once returning his eyes to the cup; his smile broadening to show his teeth.

“Move the cup in the air,” Professor Snape told him. 

Nathan’s smile faltered a bit; he’d never tried to move the object without looking at it. _I can do this_ , he assured himself. He concentrated in making the cup move to the left, so it would show in his sight range.

Nathan still couldn’t see the cup. _What if it’s not working?_ He concentrated harder, closing his eyes briefly. _Move!_

He almost sighed when the cup appeared on his peripheral vision. Nathan grinned in triumph. _I did it!_ His grin dissolved slowly when he brought his attention back to Professor Snape; the man’s expression was still the same neutral, almost bored one, regardless of Nathan’s show of, in his opinion, outstanding magic control. 

“Put the cup down,” the man told him.

Nathan did as he was told with something aching in his chest. He was about to pocket his wand and sit back on the couch, when his father instructed, “Do it again, now without speaking the incantation.”

_Without speaking the incantation? How am I supposed to do that?_

Nathan looked gravely at his wand. 

_It’s not possible._

He looked to his father. Professor Snape didn’t look as if he was kidding and was waiting.

Nathan swished and flicked his wand like Professor Flitwick had taught. Nothing happened. He did it again and nothing. He was going to fail one more time. Nathan chanced a glance to Professor Snape and back to the wand in his hand, swishing and flicking it again to no avail. _Fly, stupid cup!_

After his fifth unsuccessful attempt, Professor Snape stood from his armchair and said, “Keep practicing.” The man went to his desk on the corner of the room and ignored Nathan altogether!

 _How am I supposed to do this?_ Nathan thought annoyed, but never voiced the question. Swish and flick, swish and flick. _Fly! Fly!_ He wanted to growl in frustration.

Nathan sat back on the couch and sighed. He was not going to ask his father how to do it. He was not! He looked around the room, the many books arrayed along the walls. Nathan was sure there was at least one of them about levitation spells, and yet his father didn’t say anything. 

He looked to the man by the desk, and the ache Nathan felt in his chest became too much. He stood again, trying one more time to make the stupid cup float in the air. Failing again, he strode to the door and left, banging it in his wake.

Severus lifted his eyes from what he was reading at the sound of the door slamming shut. He looked around and there was no sign of Nathan. He frowned, fishing in his pocked for the glass vial containing the mood potion. It flashed in shades of red. “He’s angry?” Severus muttered confused. His frown deepened.

What did Nathan expect? That he would stay on the armchair, watching his sure-to-be frustrated attempts to levitate the teacup? Even showing great control over his magic already – Severus didn’t think he would be able to control the target without looking at it, and him bringing the teacup forward was a pleasant surprise – the boy would take several weeks, months even, to get the hang of a non-verbal spell, which was much more than he would expect from a first-year, even when all the abilities he’d showed here today were accounted for. 

The angry reds continued to show in the vial, but there was nothing Severus could do. He returned to his text, but couldn’t help but look at the mood potion every other minute.

Deciding he wouldn’t be bothered by Nathan’s display of petulance, Severus pocketed the vial and continued his reading with a stubborn avidness.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione tried the third dress, exasperated with what she saw in the mirror. _What is wrong with me?_ Of course, Hermione wasn’t worried about her reflection as much as she was about her behavior. This was not a date, for God’s sake!

She let herself fall to the bed and took her face in her hands, frustrated. Since last weekend, Hermione had been thinking more and more about Severus. She knew she had feelings for him, but she thought they were under control. Hermione had put so much on hold for Nathan; this need to pursue Severus was almost disconcerting. When she least expected, she was thinking about him, asking herself what would be his opinions, reactions to the most mundane things; she would catch herself dressing up for him, and it scared her.

At the same time, she felt the excitement of being in love, sure for the first time in her adult life about her affections, but she felt as if she was betraying Nathan. Now, more than ever, she should be concentrating on him, putting his happiness first. But what really intrigued her was that she wasn’t neglecting Nathan in this, only her own interests were meeting his this time, and yet it felt wrong to be thinking about herself as a woman instead of only a mother.

She couldn’t help it, though. Severus was the man she’d been waiting for all along, now she was certain. Hermione knew even before acknowledging it. He had what no other did, and they didn’t because they could never have. There was only one Severus Snape, and Hermione had been unconsciously looking for another one all her life to no avail. The men Hermione had thought to be good enough were indeed good men, some too good, others not good enough… ones too simple, plain, others intelligent, but not witty enough. They would never aggregate all the characteristics she imagined in a man, and she was resigned to being too picky, to know that such complex and complete man didn’t exist, just to come face to face with him in a Potions classroom. 

A shiver ran down her spine with only the memory of that reencounter.

How she had concealed those feelings so expertly from herself still amazed Hermione. It seemed so obvious now, so natural…. Maybe it had been the war and how her life had little space for relationships back then. Or perhaps, she had been too young and immature when they had worked together in destroying the Horcruxes to understand that what she’d felt was more than admiration for Severus. Hermione knew things had changed for her when he’d saved her, but had no place for romance in her life after the horrors she’d suffered during the war, during that night…. Never for who had done it, but for the deed in itself. No woman would think about men after such traumatic happenings. 

But then again, why didn’t she realize anything when her decision to keep Nathan had been made so much easier because his father was Severus? It should have been obvious! 

No reason to debate the past any longer. Hermione understood now and had decided she wouldn’t pass up this new opportunity of finding out if she could be happy as a woman. But her happiness had to wait a little longer yet. She couldn’t let her dreams overwhelm her common sense, taking control of her actions. _These dinners are not dates, NOT dates_ , she chanted in her head, _they are for Nathan and Nathan alone. Not dates!_

But she wished they were, of course she did.

Hermione sighed. Last week he’d been comfortable by her side, touching her, although she suspected that to be the reason for him calling dinner as early as he did. But he seemed comfortable when he wasn’t taking notice of their closeness. Of course, Hermione had felt every bit of contact that happened between them that evening. _Was I throwing myself at him?_ She shook her head in denial; she wouldn’t do that.

 _Not consciously_ , she reminded herself frowning. Hermione’s control had been very thin when he touched her, when he was too close… If he touched her again today, if she had an opportunity to touch him, Hermione didn’t know if she could resist. 

And that would be a cursed disaster.

Severus was not ready. Hermione could only hope time would work to her benefit, softening Severus to her constant presence. Hope was the last to die. _And he enjoyed your closeness last week_ , her wishful brain added. She smiled despite herself. 

Hermione could almost feel Severus’ body supporting hers on the same couch they’d shared last week, only they would be reading a good book together. Her smile widened. _What kind of book would we share?_ she thought, distracted with the image her traitorous mind was conjuring.

She shook her head, annoyed. “Get a grip, Granger!” she admonished in a murmur, taking herself from the bed to finish dressing. Nathan would be by soon. This was all for Nathan and _no one_ else.

Especially now that things seemed to have regressed on that front. Nathan had been obviously agitated when she spoke of Severus to him and sad like she hadn’t thought he would be again. He’d been close to admitting something was wrong, only to tell her it was nothing. Severus, though, blatantly said there was nothing amiss, getting annoyed when she’d insisted otherwise.

When Nathan arrived that evening, Hermione offered him one more opportunity to talk about what was bothering him, to which he said, “Nothing!”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” Hermione answered mildly.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan apologized. 

“I wish you would trust me, Nathan. I won’t take sides or make judgments,” she insisted one last time.

“It’s nothing, really!” His tone was pleading.

Hermione looked at him, measuring if insistence would help. She concluded it wouldn’t, so she motioned for him to precede her out of her quarters and put an arm around his shoulders. “Come, then. Let’s get going.”

They walked in silence. Hermione momentarily distracted from her previous worries to focus on her sad baby. If he didn’t want to tell her what had made him so upset, the only thing she could do was try to make this evening pleasant, try to see a genuine smile, hear a contented laugh.

Mother and son arrived to their destination, being welcomed by their Sunday host. Severus offered tea, to which Nathan refused immediately. Severus observed him with great intensity. Hermione watched the interaction with increasing worry. Nathan looked decisively grim with the extension of the silence, and she looked back at Severus in the hopes of some kind of explanation. 

When none was offered, Hermione was prompted to say, “Severus, what is-” 

“I have a potion in the making that needs my attention. If you’ll excuse me; I won’t be long,” he said, interrupting her question and standing to leave. 

Hermione could only stare and follow him with her eyes until the only thing she could see was the closed door. When she turned her attention back to her son, he was looking at her with curiosity.

“I didn’t think he did that to you, too,” Nathan said amused.

“Did what?” she asked.

“Walk out or send away,” he explained, making a derisive gesture to the door.

“Why did you refuse the tea? That was rude of you.” She changed the subject, but was still weighing what he’d said about Severus walking out on them.

“I don’t want tea,” he answered.

“You should at least thank him for the offer. That’s not the way I brought you up,” she countered.

“Don’t worry, Mum. He doesn’t care.”

“What are you talking about?” Maybe she would be getting an explanation after all.

“I think we should leave these meetings alone.” Nathan looked in her eyes to say that, his seriousness taking her aback. “They’re not working.”

“I thought last week had been an improvement, didn’t you?” Hermione was being careful. “But something happened during the week,” she voiced, finally.

“It’s fine, Mum. We don’t need to be best friends,” Nathan said. “I know he is my father, and that’s enough for me.”

She frowned, her heart aching for the sadness in his voice. “How can this be enough for you, honey? I don’t think you’re being true to yourself.” She let that sink in. “Besides, I don’t think your father would agree.”

“And where is he?” Nathan pointed out.

 _Damn you, Severus!_ she thought. “I know things are complicated, honey; they are not easy for any of us. But that doesn’t mean we should give up,” she told him.

Nathan bowed his head. 

“Are you really giving up? Do you really want to wonder what could have been if you had insisted?” she added.

Nathan frowned, contemplating her words, she hoped.

“Be patient, honey. I know all we need is time,” Hermione assured him, brushing his hair from his eyes and planting a kiss on his forehead. She rested her forehead against his. “Don’t be sad,” she said, lifting the corners of his mouth up with her thumbs and smiling at him. 

Nathan was still resisting. 

“If you don’t smile, I’ll have to tickle you, you know that,” she mockingly threatened. “I’m warning you.”

He remained serious, so Hermione used a finger to tease the side of his ribs. He jerked in reaction and showed a half smile before admonishing her, “Stop.”

Hermione poked him again, now on the other side, smiling mischievously. He jerked again, smiling and trying to push her hands back. But he was unsuccessful, and soon Nathan was laughing like he hadn’t in quite a while. Hermione laughed with him for the pure joy of seeing him relax in merry mirth. They didn’t notice the door open.

 

Severus stood by the door, watching the scene before him with amazement. Everything was so foreign: the sound, the vision, this background…. Nothing seemed to fit, and yet it seemed right, it _felt_ right. 

“Mum!” Nathan was saying, breathless with laugher. “Stop!”

His son laughing in his living room before dinner…. Yes, it felt oddly right, and his resolve of minutes ago was completely forgotten. Severus would go on with the meetings.

Granger seemed to notice him there. “Is everything okay with your potion?” she asked, tucking in her shirt and making sure her hair was still contained in its binding. She was flushed, Severus noticed. It was an interesting sight.

“Yes,” he answered, approaching the couch and taking his place on the armchair. He looked at Nathan with curious interest, noticing his discomposure with a secret delight. “I see you were not bored in my absence.”

He was already comfortably settled when….

“Tell me, Severus, are you ticklish?”

The question took him off-guard. “What?” Severus stared. Her full attention was on what he would say, and it was unsettling. He was starting to feel uncomfortable under her inquisitive eyes, so he glanced at Nathan, who seemed to be amusedly interested in what his answer would be, too.

But Severus could only stare.

“Mum is ticklish almost everywhere, but especially on the feet and the sides of her belly.”

Nathan’s words were something else Severus wasn’t expecting to hear. This whole conversation was surreal. He looked back at Granger, and she was blushing. 

“My Slytherin mind will make sure to store this information.” He saw her get uncomfortable, shift on her seat and, to his dismay, smile shyly. 

She sobered quickly. “Anyway,” Granger said, “what are you brewing? I didn’t see anything in the lab.” 

“I started when you left,” he told her, falling back into known paths with the Potions related subject. “The Wolfsbane.”

“For Professor Lupin?” Nathan asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ve read about what happens when a werewolf doesn’t take the Wolfsbane. It’s awful,” Nathan commented seriously.

That was as far as the interactions between Severus and Nathan went. As for the boy’s mother… she was still acting a little too comfortable around Severus for his taste. Sometimes he would forget to whom he was talking to and would find himself enjoying her conversation, much to his surprise. This had gone on and off the whole evening, and now, while they were eating their puddings, Severus realized that her behavior had always been off-putting, to say the least. Even more disturbing if the history of their relationship was taken into account.

“I thought I had seen you eating chocolate cake before. Don’t you like it?” the very subject of his musings told him, proving every thought right. 

Severus had decided to continue with the meetings, but some things would have to change….

“It’s close to curfew,” he pointed out to Nathan, ignoring her comment. “You should walk back to your common room.”

“Yes, sir.” The boy stood, and so did the adults. 

“I’ll see you on Friday, honey.” Granger kissed Nathan’s forehead, saying her good-byes and watching him leave to stay behind, like Severus knew she would – another habit that had to end. He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to have her full attention.

The door had barely clicked closed, when Severus said, “What happened here today?” He wanted to hear from her what she expected to achieve with such behavior.

To Severus’ dismay, she seemed confused with his question. That added to his annoyance, now bordering upon anger.

“It’s a simple enough question, Granger,” he insisted when all she did was look at him.

“What do you mean, Severus?” 

Her dissimulation would quickly make him lose his temper. “Don’t play dumb with me,” he said dangerously low. 

Apparently, she knew a threat when it came from him, if her change in posture was anything to consider. 

“Severus,” she started and took a step in his direction, “I’m not playing dumb. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” She took another step, but seemed to hesitate on a third. “I thought we were having a good time tonight. I was even going to point this out-”

“Point what out, Granger?” Severus interrupted her. “How inconvenient you are? How nosy you are?” He wanted to make her feel as uncomfortable as possible, to throw her out of her personal safety, just like she’d done to him all evening.

She had her mouth slightly open, but hadn’t said a word.

“Finally silent, I see,” Severus commented.

“I had the impression that you were enjoying the evening, Severus, but it seems I was completely mistaken.” She frowned and took another step towards him, but stopped when he spoke again.

“You think that just because we share a child, you have the right to bother me with questions on matters that are none of your business?” It was his time to approach her while he spoke. “That, just because I have accepted this silly plan of yours to meet every week, you have the right to take liberties?” 

She backed up a step against his advance. “Severus, I don’t unders-”

“Tell me, Granger, you didn’t _really_ think we would suddenly become best friends and forget _all_ that had happened, did you?”

“I did,” she blatantly answered, meeting his eyes. “I do,” she amended. It seemed like she wanted to say more, but nothing came out of her mouth.

Severus chuckled, taking another step towards her, so that she conceded another one, reaching the back of the couch. Now he was where he knew he looked most threatening.

“Nathan,” he told her. “He’s the reason we meet every week for these pathetic dinners.” 

He took another step, just to be certain, and she was trapped between him and the couch. 

“I’ve agreed I would be part of his life.” Severus inclined his face so he could speak directly into hers. “What else do you want?” he hissed.

That was when he felt it, her lips touching his. Reason told him to get out of reach, but he wasn’t moving. Her warm lips stayed over his, pressed tightly. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think; Severus could only be there, shocked into passivity. Her lips moved against him, he could feel it. The soft brush, the ease of the pressure on his unresponsive lips registered in his confused brain, he knew that, but couldn’t do more than acknowledge it. Until her hands touched his face, making reason rush back in an electric wave, and he was free from the hypnotic effects of her earlier actions. 

Severus grabbed at her wrists and put some distance between their faces. He stared at her with a frown, wishing his brain would come to his aid.

“I want you as part of my life as well,” Miss Granger said in a whisper. Severus could feel her words against his moist lips.

Before he could register, she was touching again, kissing him tenderly. She… Miss Granger. Severus pushed her away, holding her firmly still. His brain finally snapped back, bringing the information his reason had been based on.

“Miss Granger,” he said, and with the name came the realization of their history, of the war, of that night…. He dropped her wrists instantly and walked away, retreating from her, scowling, lifting a hand to brush his hair back. 

“Severus….”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Severus told her. “You’re completely mad.” He turned to glare at her. 

She met his glare without apparent hesitation, observing him with… hope? How could she…? _What is wrong with you, woman?_ he thought, annoyed and still confused.

“I’m not out of my mind,” she disagreed. “I… you…. Damn it, Severus! Why did you have to come so close?” She turned, bracing her hands against the back of the couch.

Severus’ glare intensified, even if he was the only one aware of the fact. She was blaming him? “You kiss me, and I’m the one too close? You were _touching_ me! Why the Hell did you do that?”

Before her silence could make his desire to hex her form into action, she turned to face him, and gone was her earlier hesitation. Her eyes were strong and so filled with emotions that he wanted her to look away.

“Because you made me do it; you came asking for it. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but now it’s done, and I’m not taking it back. This is what else I want, Severus.” She gestured between them. “I want you in my life. There you have your answer.” 

“Have you a memory problem?” he growled, more annoyed and now angry with the witch with each minute he managed to think about the absurd situation. “Can you remember who-”

“Save your speech, Severus,” she told him, and although her eyes still swam with emotion, her voice was calm and strong. “I assure you I didn’t forget a thing. I know this comes as a surprise to you-”

“I have no intention of spending my words on you, insane woman!” he cut her off in the middle of her explanation. “Get out of my rooms!” he demanded. 

“Severus, there is-”

“I said OUT!” His whole face trembled over that last word.

“I’m not going anywhere before you listen to me!” she countered. “Now that I’ve started, I’ll go to the end of it!”

“I won’t do-” he tried to say, but she was not having it.

“LISTEN! Just _listen_.” 

Severus crossed his arms in front of him, impatient. He told himself he didn’t want nor need to listen, but he felt he wanted to know what had compelled her to do what she did.

“First of all, I’m not insane, so please stop saying that.” Granger glared at him, but he sensed her uneasiness. “Second, this is not some momentary lack of… judgment on my part. Perhaps how things happened tonight was, but not what happened, and now there is no reason to deny it. You were asking, and you were very close, and I didn’t know how to hold back the true answer, although I knew it would lead to this.”

“Is this your idea of revenge, Granger?” Severus took advantage of her pause for a breath to ask, voicing his own version of her reasons to do what she did.

She sighed. “I knew you weren’t… that you wouldn’t understand right now, and I want you to understand. I have no reason to want revenge on you, much the contrary. I have only reasons to respect and admire you for all you did for me and my friends… for the whole wizarding world. What prompted me to kiss you is not a moment’s impulse, either. I’ve been-”

“Woman!” he interrupted. “Listen to yourself! You want me to believe I never gave you reason for revenge?”

“Would you-”

“Are you back for more, then? Do you want me to take you by the arm and throw you to the ground? Do you want me to rip your knickers from you…”

“Stop it.”

“… to undo my trousers and…”

“Stop it.”

“… cover you, invading you like a lifeless thing-”

“Stop it!” she cried. “I’m _not_ unaffected by what happened!” 

She had tears in her eyes, and Severus felt he’d gone too far. He should apologize, but he also wanted her to understand the insanity of what she was claiming to feel for him – her rapist. Before he could decide, she spoke again. 

“I was taken from my friends, had my head invaded by that monster.” She raised a shaky hand and brushed her hair back nervously. “They tortured me for information I didn’t have. Crucio is something I don’t desire even for my worst enemy, and they cursed me for what seemed an eternity.” Her voice was soft with the sadness of the memory.

Severus knew well of what she was talking about and felt memories of his own invading his mind. 

“When I thought dying was a pleasant option, when all my hope was gone, I heard your voice,” she told him and lifted her eyes to meet his. “I knew what you would do, but I also knew why you were doing that. I didn’t enjoy any of it, but neither did you. I know you didn’t, Severus.” 

He hadn’t, but a man can’t do what he had done without enjoying himself at least for a moment, and he had. It was what it had taken for him to get her out of there, and he carried the burden with him every single day of his miserable life.

“You saved my life on more occasions and ways than that. You risked your life for us uncountable times.” She paused and took a few steps towards him. “What I want you to understand is that I can see; I’m not fooled by the appearances of your actions. What you did was the brave choice in a difficult situation. If instead of… doing what you had to… you, I don’t know, had to cut my leg off or… curse me to free me, I know you would have, and I wouldn’t be less grateful, but you would be considered a hero like those who did the same in other circumstances.”

Severus simply looked at the woman in front of him, unable to ignore her arguments, but still feeling guilty for not having chosen to sacrifice himself when he should have. He was startled when she touched his hand, but didn’t shy from that warm, soft touch.

“I’m sorry you had to make such a horrible choice, but I’m really, really glad you did. Thank you, Severus, I’ll forever be grateful, and I wish you could forgive yourself for being a very brave Slytherin.”

He stared at their hands while she said that, not trusting his emotions for the second time that evening. It was not often that he found himself confused. His introspection was interrupted by the action of her squeezing his hand.

“I hope this can help you understand why Nathan could never be a burden,” she continued and let go of his hand. 

She left shortly after that, and Severus followed her with his eyes, frowning with conflicted feelings. Since Hermione Granger had invaded his life for the third time, Severus had been having a battle with himself. When she was just another Muggle-born student, he knew he had to mistreat her and be indifferent to her qualities, and that was not a problem – she was not a problem – beside her connections with Potter. When they had worked together in the war, destroying Horcruxes, he had been free to admit her skills and intelligence, even the ease with which they worked together, and that might be why he was bound to save her that night. When she was back as the mother of his son, though… since then, Severus hadn’t had a definite opinion about her, her actions, intentions, and now her feelings as well. The fact that she was making him question his own actions, intentions and feelings, so well cemented in him before, made his head ache. 

The way his mind was insisting his skin to remember her touch was not helping, either. How could he let himself be caught like this? And by _her_ , no less...

~o0oOo0o~

“You should be more careful, Granger,” Malfoy said with disdain after practically walking over Nathan, knocking him to the dungeon’s stone floor.

Nathan stood quickly and shoved at Malfoy’s chest, making the blond take a few steps back to maintain his balance. 

Malfoy pushed him back. “What’s wrong with you? Just because you’re suddenly related to Professor Snape doesn’t mean you have reign of the dungeons.”

“I’ve had enough of you, Malfoy!” Nathan answered and pushed the Slytherin again, only this time Malfoy was ready, and the fight didn’t escalate to actual punches because a deep voice snarled from the end of the corridor.

“What’s happening here?”

They separated, but continued to glare at one another. Professor Snape was upon them in a beat.

“I thought that I had been clear last time!” He was visibly annoyed. “This Muggle behavior won’t be tolerated!” Professor Snape faced Nathan and Malfoy in time. “Twenty points from Gryffindor, and another twenty from Slytherin!”

Nathan was used to having points taken by Professor Snape and enjoyed Malfoy’s expression of disbelief. His amusement was only short-lived as he heard his father growl, “Follow me.”

He took his book bag from the floor and obeyed, walking the dungeon’s halls beside Malfoy to Professor Snape’s office. They entered and waited until the professor turned to address them again.

“I don’t know, and I don’t even want to know, why you were fighting like two Muggles in the halls again. What I want is to make clear that this stops now! Any question?”

“Uncle Severus, I didn’t do anything to him. He wasn’t looking where-”

“Devon, have you listened to anything I’ve just said? I’m not interested!” Professor Snape cut off Malfoy’s words, and Nathan was very aware of the familiarity in the way they addressed each other. “Do I make myself clear this time?”

“Yes,” Malfoy answered, lowering his eyes to his shoes.

Nathan was observing everything very carefully.

“Very well. Just keep in mind that I won’t even remember who you are if this happens again.” His father finally turned his attention from Malfoy to him. “Do I have to repeat myself, Mr. Granger?”

“No, sir,” Nathan answered meekly, feeling the formality cut like a sharp knife. He didn’t have the urge to argue after how domestic this all sounded between Malfoy and his father. This felt like everything Malfoy ever said was true, and Nathan hated it. 

There was silence for a moment until Professor Snape seemed satisfied. He bypassed the desk and sat behind it. Nathan knew that to mean they were dismissed, but he didn’t move; he wouldn’t leave before Malfoy. “What are you waiting for? Written permission to leave? Move!”

Malfoy turned to the door, and before following him, Nathan met his father’s eyes, but found nothing there besides annoyance. He suppressed a disappointed sigh and left. Disappointment turned quickly into anger when Malfoy was waiting for him outside.

“Not even a detention…. You’re lower in his regard than I thought,” the Slytherin taunted amused.

“He took twenty points from you,” Nathan countered, feeling stupid for even using that as an argument, but he couldn’t let Malfoy get out of it without at least one attempt at fighting back. Nathan refused to let the pain of his father’s indifference show.

“The same twenty he took from you.” Malfoy smirked, knowing that there was no argument left for Nathan. “Watch where you go; the dungeons can be a dangerous place for distracted Gryffindors.”

“Let’s meet somewhere else, then?” Nathan challenged, walking closer to the Slytherin so his voice wouldn’t arrive to his father’s ears just behind the door.

“What makes you think that it’ll change anything?” Malfoy scoffed. “You don’t belong here in Uncle Severus’ life, _Granger_ , something I can tell you here or anywhere else.”

“I want to see you prove your empty words, Malfoy.” Nathan lowered his voice even more in his anger.

A loud noise from Professor Snape’s office startled them; it seemed that the man was coming out. Malfoy didn’t wait to see that confirmed and left along the way to the Slytherin common room. Nathan didn’t want to meet his father, either, and fled quickly towards the Entrance Hall.

Nathan managed to keep out of his father’s and Malfoy’s way until, on Wednesday, Professor Snape looked for him in the Great Hall during lunch. 

“Mr. Granger,” Nathan turned to meet the man he’d been avoiding, “I don’t have time for a meeting tonight, so I’m canceling it.” With no more than that, he strode for the doors, scowling at the world.

 _He canceled our meeting?_ Nathan’s head was rushing, looking for reasons. This was the last rock over his oppressed heart. _He’s keeping me away_. 

“Snape is not in his best of moods this week. He’s given so many detentions that they’re starting to look like a group activity,” Nathan heard a fifth-year sitting a few feet away saying while his father left the Great Hall. The group of older Gryffindors laughed at the joke, but Nathan still couldn’t understand what was so funny about it.

“Finally a free Wednesday with us,” Kevin commented. “We could explore the fifth floor. We know for sure that Snape won’t be catching us out after curfew, being so busy as he is.” His friend smiled mischievously.

“Yeah, maybe,” Nathan said disheartened. Somehow, he didn’t want a free evening. Well, he did, but not like this, and when he was almost sure Professor Snape was avoiding him because he was… boring? Annoying? 

Unworthy?

They left for the afternoon classes, and not even the reassurance of his friends was making his most pessimistic assumptions go away, and Nathan was trying to replace them by the few optimistic ones he got. Andy tried to help.

“He has detentions to supervise,” his friend had told him before they started eating dinner and Nathan’s clear disappointment at the vacant seat by the High Table was disguised.

“So I’ve heard,” Nathan answered dismissively.

“Do you think he’s busy with something else?” Andy insisted.

Nathan shrugged and filled his mouth with pie. He didn’t want to talk about it any more. They ate in relative silence; the full day affecting more than only Nathan – Charms had been very demanding that afternoon.

When he thought his day would soon be over, he heard Malfoy. “I’ve heard Professor Snape exchanged your company for detentions,” he provoked. “Well, it doesn’t surprise me,” Malfoy added.

“I’m not interested in your stupid comments, Malfoy.”

“This definitely proves my theory of your unworthiness, I think there is no doubt of that now,” Malfoy continued, making a show for his Slytherin audience. “But if you’re still not convinced, because, well, you’re a Gryffindor,” that called for some attention along the table, “you can meet me in the library later, since you’re obviously free this evening, and I can make it all clear, even for a lesser Gryffindor like you.”

“Watch your words, Malfoy,” Kevin threatened, rising from his seat to emphasize his intentions.

“Just tell me where and when,” Nathan said, ignoring the others rising for the defense of Gryffindor.

“I’ll find you there, when we’ll discuss the details,” Malfoy turned and left, some Gryffindors still defending their House to his back.

“How dare him come here and say things like that?” Kevin said outraged. “Who does he think he is?”

“He’s just a stupid Slytherin. You won’t go, will you?” Andy asked Nathan.

“Of course I will,” Nathan confirmed seriously.

“ _We_ will,” amended Kevin. “That snob needs a lesson or two.”

“Nathan, you shouldn’t go. What would Professor Lupin say about it? What would Professor Snape?” Andy insisted.

“This is between Malfoy and I, and it’s gone far enough. If he thinks he can prove I’m not worthy of my father, then I want to see him do it.” Nathan was stronger in his words than he was in his emotions. He was starting to think Malfoy was right, and maybe, if the Slytherin proved it, Nathan could let go of this whole father thing once and for all. 

Except, he didn’t want to let go. Nathan didn’t want Malfoy to be right. He shoved aside those thoughts and simply headed for the library. It was stupid, Andy was right, but Nathan had to do it. Kevin followed, of course, and so did Andy, even against his better judgment. 

They didn’t have to wait too long for Malfoy to show up. He had his usual followers with him. They stopped by the entrance of the Restricted Section, and Nathan went to meet them, Andy and Kevin on either side of him.

“I see you brought an audience with you,” Malfoy said to Nathan.

“So did you.” Kevin anticipated any answer Nathan could have to that.

“To the point, Malfoy,” Nathan said while the animosity escalated between the groups glaring at one another.

“Go into the Restricted Section and bring us a Dark Arts book,” Malfoy dared him.

“Nathan, don’t do it. We shouldn’t go into the Restricted Section, least of all to get a Dark Arts book. Madam Pince will catch you, and you’ll be in deep trouble,” Andy was saying urgently on his left. 

“Well…?” Malfoy pressed for an answer.

“I’ll do it,” Nathan answered, holding his head high to the dare and ignoring reason. 

Malfoy smirked.

“What does it prove, Nathan? Nothing!” Andy was still trying to advice him against it.

If Nathan were thinking, he would have agreed with Andy. Entering the Restricted Section to get a book hardly proved anything, but it apparently did for Malfoy. Right now, that was incentive enough.

Nathan walked to the doors that led to the forbidden portion of the library, leaving his friends and foes outside. He always wondered what was really behind those doors, and now he was there, wand lit in his hand, observing his surroundings.

At first, he didn’t notice anything different, but as he advanced, walking further away from the doors, he could feel something heavy in the air. What was only a sensation became more real when Nathan heard a muffled scream. He stopped and looked around, expecting to find someone there, right behind him. His heart was beating faster, and he didn’t want to stay there much longer. Perhaps this wasn’t such a silly test after all.

Nathan forced himself to approach the shelves. The spines of the books betrayed how old and obscure they were; some showed a title there, others nothing but a symbol, others yet not even that. Many of the books were written in languages Nathan couldn’t understand. 

An agonized whimper came to his ears, and Nathan turned startled again, looking for its source. A book moved on the upper shelves, calling his attention to it, making Nathan step back and hit the books behind him. Something definitely not human growled in response. 

It was time to get some book – any book – and get out of there. Nathan reached for the first tome he could catch and walked quickly away from the screams and grunts of the books. Only when he felt he was safe enough, did he think to look if the book he held met the requirements of Malfoy’s dare.

 _Anima Codex_ , he read. His elementary Latin translated it into Decoding Souls. Well, any magic with souls was Dark, so it would do. Nathan emerged in the main hall of the library to find only his friends there.

“Where’s Malfoy?”

“He went to fetch Madam Pince, the scum,” Kevin cursed. “What took you so long?”

“Come on, we need to get out of here before they come back!” Andy urged, taking Nathan by the sleeve of his robes.

Irrationally, Nathan wanted to stay and show the book to Malfoy, to shove it on his face and prove that…. Prove what? It didn’t prove anything…. Damn! Malfoy set him up, and Nathan was so lost in his internal struggle that he didn’t even notice!

Going inside the Restricted Section only served to prove what a dunderhead he was. _Stupid! Stupid! What was I thinking?_ Nathan thought while he followed automatically after his friends towards Gryffindor’s common room. He ran into Kevin when he stopped by the Fat Lady, so distracted by his musings he was.

“Sorry,” Nathan apologized.

Kevin mumbled an answer and exchanged a look with Andy, Nathan noticed. He sighed.

“I was distracted, okay?” Nathan added annoyed and barked the password, storming into the common room and straight to the upstairs dormitory. He was relieved when no one followed him, and Nathan crashed on his bed, tired of feeling miserable. Tomorrow was his birthday, and he was sure no one remembered or cared – his father, the least.

What went wrong? What gods had he insulted to deserve this? Nathan turned in the mattress, burying his face in the pillow. _I won’t cry, I won’t!_ He shouldn’t spend another tear on this. He turned again to face the crimson curtains and felt something beneath his back – the book bag he’d thrown on the bed before collapsing on it.

Nathan sat down, took his shoes off and opened his bag, fishing for the book he’d shoved there while fleeing from the library. There it was; _Anima Codex_. He put his book bag out of the way and sat cross-legged with the Dark book in his hands. Nathan didn’t know why he was doing it, only that he was. 

He went through the first chapter with increasing interest. It was an ancient book, but the difficult English didn’t deter him. Learning about souls was very interesting and absorbing, just what Nathan needed right now. He advanced through the book, going through the theories of a soul’s origins, its ethereal consistency and attachment to a body, despite its independence of being, needing more and more space in his mind and arranging it where before his frustrations and disappointments with his father, mother, Uncle Harry and Professor Lupin, as well as his hatred for Malfoy, lurked. 

His friends had come and gone to sleep hours ago, and Nathan was still captivated by the forbidden book. No one had seen him with it, he’d been careful; Nathan didn’t want to hear he wasn’t supposed to be reading it, especially now that it was getting really interesting. There were potions that affected the soul directly, for good and for bad, spells that would bind souls or release them, and even mentions of the existence of Horcruxes and what they were, like Nathan had heard in many accountings of the war. 

Some of potions were complicated even to understand the recipe, never mind actually brewing them. Nathan wondered if Professor Snape would be able to do it and then remembered he didn’t care about Professor Snape. Some of the spells were as hard as many of the potions, but others seemed easy enough. Resting his eyes on one of the spells of the latest kind, Nathan started to wonder if he could cast it. 

This particular spell seemed inoffensive enough, and Nathan felt an urge to try. Certainly, freeing one’s soul in an experience of astral projection couldn’t be harmful. He wouldn’t be casting it on anyone but himself. Nathan thought about the consequences of such a thing and couldn’t find a reason not to try. It would be fun! He wanted some fun!

Nathan practiced the wand motion thinking twice about casting the spell. Every minute that passed, he grew more confident, and thinking about not doing it seemed silly, stupid even. He could do it, and that would prove to him that all _they_ said and thought of him was wrong. Another few repetitions of the easy wand motion cemented his resolve.

Very softly, he read and reread the spell, learning the words he would have to chant. Nathan would do it because he could, because no one was there to tell him he couldn’t. Taking a deep breath, Nathan waved his wand while speaking the spell, and tapped at his third eye. He felt a dizziness that soon receded. Nathan looked down and saw his legs there, still a very solid mass of flesh and bones, and was starting to think he had failed when he glanced back and saw his upper body lying on the bed. 

Nathan widened his eyes, although the real eyes didn’t move, remaining closed. He stood up, and the body – his body – was still on the mattress. He finally thought to look down his ethereal self, and his eyes widened again, accompanied by a gasp – Nathan could see through himself, as if he was one of the ghosts of the castle. 

The shock of his success eventually wore off, and Nathan grinned, looking about his other self peacefully sleeping while his soul was very awake. This could be very useful! He would be able to go places and have the perfect alibi – his body in a bed. So many possibilities….

Now he needed some real sleep, though. This occurrence had lifted his spirit, literally and figuratively, and he felt ready to face his birthday on his own in the morning. Nathan spoke the spell that would take his soul back to his body and closed his eyes, waiting some unpleasant sensation that would accompany the reattachment. When he felt nothing, Nathan opened his eyes and was faced by the sight of himself in the bed like before. The spell hadn’t worked.

Nathan chanted the words carefully again and opened his eyes to the same scenario. A third try and nothing happened, either. Nathan was starting to worry. A few more tries, and not a change – Nathan’s essence was still no nearer to getting back into his body. He started to attempt variations of the same spell, getting closer to his resting self, trying to touch it as he chanted, and nothing, nothing, nothing… nothing. 

He was in a panic after an hour of frustrated attempts to be whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it. I hope things are more interesting now. She kissed him, and Nathan is in trouble. Severus is not a lucky wizard, or is he? ;0)
> 
> Someone's asked for the necklace colors and their meaning. Here you are, sort of. It’s only a guide I follow. :0)
> 
> Blue: calm, cold, formal, spiritual, pure, truthful, depressing  
> Orange: exhilarating, cheerful, lively’  
> Red: aggressive, passionate, bloody, angry, strong  
> Yellow: cheerful, happy, youthful, cowardly,  
> Pink: fanciful, romantic  
> Green: youthful, eternal, reborn, jealous  
> Soft green: restful, soothing, tranquil  
> Purple: mournful, mystic, regal  
> Grey: neutral, depressing, negative, somber  
> Brown: earthy, common, poverty-stricken  
> Black: melancholic, tragic, gloomy, death-like  
> White: truthful, pure, chaste, innocent, peaceful
> 
> Now, I need to thank one more time my incredible betas, Indygofeathers and GinnyW, for their terrific work. Thank you! 
> 
> You know I’m always curious for your opinion on my chapters. If you have some time, leave me a review. :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** Nathan is locked outside his body, worrying his parents.


	25. Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan is locked outside of his body, worrying his parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Indigofeathers – thank you very much!

The day was dawning, and Nathan knew he wouldn’t wake up that morning when the light hit his face from the gap in the hangings. Not even the strongest sun of the brightest summer day of all summer days would be able to make him open his eyes. After all these distressing hours of fretting, crying, or simply staring at his sleeping self, Nathan’s body was still a soulless shell. 

Soon, his roommates would be up for the day and someone would come check his bed. Nathan sat cross-legged next to his body, waiting for that moment. He had tried to verify his mood necklace, to see what it showed, but it was covered by his pajamas. He wondered if it was clear, like when he took it off, angry with his father. Perhaps it was black – death black. Would Professor Snape notice?

Nathan lowered his head. If his father came through the dormitory door, thinking he was dead, and found his peacefully sleeping, hollow body, what would he do? He wanted to believe Professor Snape would flick his wand and solve everything.

Even if it was only to have Nathan whole so he could separate his soul from his body properly by killing him afterwards.

His mother would be very disappointed, he knew. At least she wouldn’t see him like this. He glanced at his body again. They would get him fixed in no time, his mother would only hear of it afterwards. Nathan was sure she would panic if she looked at him lying unconscious like that…. 

But they would put him together; Madam Pomfrey, Professor Lupin, Professor Snape, someone! They had to. It was an easy spell. 

An easy spell he didn’t master…. 

Nathan took his head in hands again, elbows resting on his translucent knees. How pathetic was he? Yes, he had answered this question many times already, but he was so utterly disappointed with himself that his thoughts were going in circles, always coming back to chastise him. This time, though, the cycle was broken. There was movement in the room, distracting him from his thoughts.

Nathan left his bed to see who was waking up. _Great! Andy!_ Cautiously as not to startle him, Nathan walked a step forward and called, _“Andy.”_

Maybe he was too cautious, for Andy continued rummaging through his clothes as if not listening to him. 

Nathan hissed, _“Andy!”_ He didn’t want to wake up the others just yet. He walked and was standing in the middle of the circular room now. _“Andy?”_ he called in a normal voice, if a bit hesitantly. 

Andy still had his back to him, taking out whatever he was taking out of his trunk, but then he turned around, looking at him. 

_“Don’t fret,”_ Nathan hurried to say, raising his hands before him and waiting for the shock to show on his friend’s face. But when he could see none….

When Andy didn’t say anything or show any sign of surprise, Nathan realized he was looking _through_ him and not _at_ him, and _he_ was the one shocked. 

_He can’t see me._

Nathan couldn’t believe it. He was translucent, yes, but so were all the ghosts in the castle, and Andy, or any other person for that matter, had no trouble seeing and talking with them. Why would it be any different with him? 

_“Andy! Please say you can see me! That you’re only joking!”_ Nathan was panicking, coming closer to his friend, standing right in front of him. Andy didn’t seem to realize his presence. _“It’s not funny!”_

Andy stood from the bed and left for the bathroom, ignoring and almost walking through him. Nathan stared wide-eyed at the door that had closed behind Andy. 

If they couldn’t see him, how would they know what happened? If no one knew what happened, how would they fix it? They wouldn’t! Couldn’t!

_I’m locked outside my body forever!_

Nathan went back to his bed with tears spilling down his translucent cheeks. He tried in vain to perform the reverse spell ten more times, crying even harder. He hadn’t realized just how utterly screwed he was until Andy couldn’t see or hear him.

His other roommates were all awake by the time Nathan had calmed a little. The book was still opened in the page of the spell, so when they find his unconscious body, they would know what happened and how to fix it. That thought was the only think holding his hopes of getting back into his body anytime soon.

“Is Nathan in the bathroom?” he heard Kevin ask from somewhere in the room. Nathan was back in his concealed bed. It wouldn’t take much longer now for them to find out.

“No, Josh is there.”

“Is he still sleeping, then? Did he think he could be late for class just because it’s his birthday?” Kevin said, making Nathan close his eyes at the mention of his birthday.

“I’ll wake him up,” Andy volunteered.

The hangings of his bed were pulled open abruptly.

“Wake up!” Andy cried, expecting to startle him. His friend was smiling, but when Nathan’s body didn’t even stir, the smile faltered. “Wake up, Nathan. You can’t stay a lazy slug in bed if we can’t.”

Nathan was watching his friend intently, seeing all the emotions crossing his face.

Andy shook his body’s shoulder. “Come on! Stop it! I thought we could go to breakfast earlier today.”

Of course his body didn’t react. _“I won’t wake up, Andy. Go get Professor Lupin.”_ Nathan’s unheard words were those of sad resignation.

“It’s not funny, Nathan,” his friend said, shaking his body again. “Wake up!” 

Andy was panicking, Nathan realized. He saw Kevin come to his aid.

“Come on, Nathan. You’re annoying Andy,” Kevin said, shaking his shoulder. “And now you’re annoying me, too.”

“I think there’s something wrong with him. I think we should call Professor Lupin,” Andy finally said, but didn’t leave the side of the bed. Nathan realized he was still hoping it was all a joke.

When not even those words made his body open its eyes, Kevin was convinced. “I’ll do it.” He left to find Professor Lupin.

His other roommates were now gathering around his bed, asking what was going on. Kevin soon came back to tell that Professor Lupin was on his way. That was when something terrible happened. 

“Kevin, I don’t think Professor Lupin should see that.” Andy was pointing to the open book near his body’s right knee.

Nathan’s translucent self followed Andy’s pointing finger and got agitated.

“Is that the book he took from the Restricted Section yesterday?” Kevin asked so only Andy – and Nathan – could hear him. 

Andy nodded. 

“Professor Lupin can’t see it!” Kevin agreed, then.

 _“Don’t move the book!”_ Nathan shouted when Kevin reached for it, trying to take Kevin’s hands away. Of course, neither his words nor his actions did anything to prevent Kevin from doing just that. And useless were all his other pleas. _“No, no, NO! Don’t close it!”_

He followed Kevin and the book to Kevin’s trunk, and when the book was very well closed and concealed from everyone’s eyes, Professor Lupin entered the room. 

_“NO!”_ Nathan screamed, and he had new tears in his ethereal dark eyes. _“How will he fix me now?”_

When Nathan went back to where his body lay, Professor Lupin had already broken through the boys who surrounded the bed and was touching his fleshly forehead, calling his name with worry in his voice. “Nathan. Nathan, can you hear me?”

 _“Yes, I can. But you can’t hear me!”_ Nathan snapped, unable to control his frustration after having his biggest hope taken away and hidden into Kevin’s trunk.

He climbed into bed and watched Professor Lupin inspect his body’s eyes, arms, taking his wand and murmuring some words under his breath. He observed dispassionately his body glow in a red light after one of the spells had hit it. 

“Andy, go to the Great Hall and get Professor Sna–”

The door flung open the very moment Professor Lupin was saying that, calling the attention of everyone in the room. Well, not everyone; Nathan closed his eyes and missed the image of his roommates getting out of Professor Snape’s way as the man crossed to room, cursing under his breath. 

Nathan opened his eyes and kept staring at his body. The glow from Professor Lupin’s spell was fading slowly, in the same pace of his own perceptions of his surrounding. Nathan was watching it fade, staring without really seeing, lost in his hopelessness. His father’s hand came into view when the remaining of the red light dissipated. It touched his body’s forehead. Nathan finally looked up, following the length of arm.

Professor Snape was scowling down at him. Well, not at him, but at his body. He was holding his wand and seemed to be concentrating.

“What happened?” Professor Snape asked.

Nathan was opening his mouth to answer, forgetting he couldn’t be heard, when Professor Lupin spoke, “The boys called me when they couldn’t wake him up. I don’t know what happened, but he doesn’t seem to be physically injured.”

Professor Snape listened while casting apparently the same spell Professor Lupin had cast before, for Nathan’s body was glowing red again. Professor Snape turned from the sight, looking at the others in the room. “Who can tell me what’s going on here?” he asked.

Silence was his answer.

“Mr. Brown?” Professor Snape singled out, arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Mr. Wood?” Professor Snape tried.

“I couldn’t wake him up, sir,” Andy said.

His father turned again, watching his body once more, running his eyes from Nathan’s face to feet and back again. The conscious part of Nathan startled when the feet he’d been staring at moved. He watched his body being lifted from the bed into the arms of his father.

“I’ll go ahead of you to forewarn Poppy,” Professor Lupin said.

“Why?” Professor Snape challenged. “You’d be more useful if you knew what was going on in your own House, Lupin.” He adjusted the weight in his arms and left for the door.

Nathan followed, not knowing what else to do. They went down the common room, exited by the Fat Lady’s door, and continued through the corridors that would lead them to the Hospital Wing. 

It was still early, and they found very few students out of their common rooms. Not that either part of Nathan was aware – his unconscious body held by his father and his soul following the socked feet of it as if in a trance. 

When the feet rocked up and down one last time and then stopped, Nathan snapped out of his reverie and really looked at his father. He took in the image this man made carrying his body. His father’s face sported the usual unreadable expression, but his eyes were different in a way Nathan couldn’t classify. 

Professor Snape rearranged the body in his arms, holding it more upright, head on his neck, chest on his chest, supporting the weight with a single arm and freeing a hand to get to his wand. He cast Alohomora, and they entered the infirmary.

“Poppy!” His father called after the mediwitch while he carefully set his body down to a bed, making sure its head rested softly on the pillow. “Poppy!”

“Severus?” The mediwitch came rushing to where his father stood and his body lay.

“There is something wrong with him,” Professor Snape said. 

The mediwitch started to wave her wand over Nathan’s body, making Professor Snape step away from the bed. Nathan stared at his own pale face, watching the first couple of diagnosis spells hit it.

The mediwitch concentrated on her examination, and Nathan’s attention was drawn from her to his father. The same strange glint of earlier still shone in his eyes, his expression locked in a frown. Was he worried or angry? It was difficult to tell. Looking at the man’s hand, two fingers rubbing at each other, Nathan added anxious or irritated to his list of possibilities. 

Madam Pomfrey was still for a moment, catching his attention. The only indication that his father had noticed the change as well was when he took a step closer to the bed and toward Nathan’s body.

“There is nothing physically wrong with him. For all I know, he’s sleeping deeply; more deeply than a Stupefy would make him, and so Enervate won’t bring him to awareness. My spells also tell me he didn’t ingest any sleeping potion, at least none of the common ones. His condition seems stable enough for now, which is good in a way, but also bad, since he’s not waking up on his own.” Madam Pomfrey paused and turned from his body to his father. “What happened to him?”

Professor Snape stared, still frowning, at the pale face making little contrast with the white pillowcase as he answered, “I don’t know, yet. He was on his bed in his dormitory when we found him, and none of the other students revealed anything useful. I was hoping you could tell me.” 

The mediwitch frowned. “I suspect this is the consequence of a curse, although if he was inside the dormitory when you found him…. I can’t think of any Hogwarts-level curse that would have such a strong effect.”

Nathan listened to Madam Pomfrey’s speculations, growing more and more worried with her assessment of his condition. Did this mean she couldn’t fix him, either? 

“If it’s a curse, it’s one I don’t know of,” Madam Pomfrey added, and that answered Nathan’s question.

Somehow, he’d known already, but against all odds he’d hoped the mediwitch might have been able to reverse this situation. 

“You can’t bring him back.” Professor Snape came to the same conclusion, voicing it.

She shook her head. “Not without knowing what hit him.”

Nathan’s helplessness and frustration brought tears to his eyes once more. They couldn’t hear nor see him, they couldn’t find the book describing the curse and counter-curse, and they couldn’t help him back into his body without it. This couldn’t get worse.

“I’ll Floo Minerva and then St. Mungo’s,” the mediwitch told his father

St. Mungo’s? If they sent his body away from Hogwarts…. Nathan didn’t think that was a good idea. He didn’t want to be sent away from the castle. He looked at Professor Snape, waiting for some miracle. Luckily, his father intervened when Madam Pomfrey was already turning to the hearth.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Severus, the Headmistress must be informed–”

“Yes, yes. Minerva yes, but not St. Mungo’s,” his father interrupted annoyed.

“I can’t heal him, Severus. He should be sent to St. Mungo’s–”

“I disagree,” the man interrupted again, looking pointedly at the mediwitch, who glared at him. Their silent struggle for power seemed to go on forever.

Nathan observed one and then the other in turn. He didn’t want to be sent to St. Mungo’s, but if Madam Pomfrey couldn’t help him… why was his father opposing to the idea of sending him to the hospital? Right now, Nathan only wanted Professor Snape to win this glaring contest; he could think about his motivation later.

Madam Pomfrey finally went to the hearth and called the Headmistress. She didn’t Floo St. Mungo’s, but was still looking cross, making very plain to Professor Snape what her thoughts were on the matter. 

The Headmistress arrived on the silent ward, and Madam Pomfrey went about explaining what was going on. The two witches approached the bed where his body lay. Nathan followed them, paying attention to everything that was said. Nothing new was disclosed, and finally Madam Pomfrey made known her wishes to send for St. Mungo’s. 

“Why haven’t you Flooed them yet?” the Headmistress asked.

The mediwitch made an exasperated gesture in Professor Snape’s direction; he’d been quiet since the Headmistress had arrived.

“Severus?” Professor McGonagall prompted, turning to him as if only then noticing his presence in the ward. Nathan followed her.

“He won’t be sent to St. Mungo’s.”

Professor McGonagall seemed taken aback by his finality. Nathan was getting nervous with the situation. Was his father denying him help? Didn’t he want him to be well again?

“If there is nothing Poppy can do here, we need specialized help.”

“I’m his father and I say he won’t be sent to St. Mungo’s.” 

It was the first time since the day Nathan had heard the man confessing he was his father that he’d heard Professor Snape admit to their blood relationship. What was he playing at? 

“He might be seriously injured, Severus–”

“Poppy said he’s stable.”

“Yes, but this can change at any minute. We don’t know what hit him,” Madam Pomfrey said exasperated.

Professor Snape glared at her from the corner of his eyes: a warning.

“Why don’t you want to send him to St. Mungo’s, Severus?” the Headmistress asked, seemingly curious. Nathan was also interested in the answer.

“I don’t trust his safety outside the castle. He stays until I say otherwise.”

Nathan tried to gauge the true feelings behind that statement. Was Professor Snape really worried about his safety? Thinking back, Professor Snape had always come to his aid when he was in some kind of trouble. Maybe he was in fact worried.

“His safety?” Madam Pomfrey asked, puzzled.

“Yes.” His father glared at her again. If Nathan could be heard, he would have told her not to cross him again.

“Severus, if you haven’t noticed, the war has been over for more than a decade now. Are you really this paranoid about–”

“He has his reasons, Poppy. Is Mr. Granger really stable?” The Headmistress intervened just in time, for Professor Snape was glaring at her with such intensity that his face was turning red with what Nathan was sure was fury.

“He is, but–”

“I’ll order some breakfast and you can explain the situation in more detail while we eat.” Professor McGonagall led the mediwitch away by the arm.

Professor Snape was left alone with Nathan. He made an irritated noise after the retreating pair before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Nathan saw him turn to the bed and look at his body in silence. As usual, his expression showed nothing of his thoughts, and Nathan was again at a loss at how to interpret it. His father closed the short space to the bed and fixed his eyes on the chalk-white face. It was then that his expression changed.

Nathan observed in amazement as emotions passed over his father’s face. He had never seen such things in those black eyes; they were almost warm, tender. Then long fingers reached out to touch smaller ones. Nathan gasped, a pain that couldn’t be physical pulsing in his ethereal chest. His father had never touched him like that before. 

“Why don’t you wake up?” It was almost a whisper. 

_“I don’t know how,”_ Nathan answered, desperation building again. He wanted to go back into his body, he wanted to _feel_ that.

When the fingers left the small hand and brushed back the hair from his fleshly face, a tear escaped Nathan’s eyes. He blinked it away and looked up into his father’s face. The man was frowning.

“You’re cold,” he whispered. “What happened to you?”

 _“I’m sorry,”_ Nathan apologized, feeling the enormity of what he’d done, thinking playing with Dark spells wasn’t so serious. Looking at his father now…. Oh, how sorry he was for not being able to feel those caresses, for causing so much trouble. What if they never find out what had happened to him? His vision blurred with the accumulated energy that composed his invisible tears.

“Did your birthday unleash some curse on you?” His father continued his quiet interrogation, and Nathan realized he knew it was his birthday. “I don’t believe someone invaded the castle to curse you.” 

_“I cursed myself,”_ Nathan sobbed. _“I’m sorry!”_

Professor Snape didn’t react to Nathan’s anguish, only stared at his body in contemplation. The same finger that had been touching Nathan’s face was now rubbing his father’s thin lips, held there by the support of his other arm crossing his middle. Although the man seemed to be observing the weak rise and fall of his unconscious body’s chest, his eyes were glazed, staring into space in concentration. Taking in his father’s pensive face, Nathan observed that apparent calm and tried to reign in his own emotions. 

Professor Snape didn’t voice any more questions, but it was obvious that he was trying to figure out what had happened to him. Even if he had doubts about his father’s feelings for him, his simple presence there by the bed was reassuring. Nathan was much calmer when the Headmistress and the mediwitch approached them again. His father’s posture straightened and his expression turned colder, Nathan noticed. 

“Any change?” Professor McGonagall spoke first.

“No.” His father glanced at the bed one last time. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to go to my quarters before heading for the classroom.” He nodded to the women, but before he could leave, the Headmistress spoke again.

“Severus, do you have means to contact Hermione when she’s teaching at university?”

 _Mum_. Nathan closed his eyes, already bracing himself for her disappointment.

“Not by any other means you have, Minerva.”

“Then I’ll need you to go to her during your free period. She needs to know what has happened as soon as possible.”

“Minerva, I’d prefer to use my free period to research the possible curses that are influencing the boy. I’m sure Hagrid wouldn’t be averse to the task, or even Filch.”

“Severus, I can’t send a half-giant amongst Muggles, and Filch can’t Apparate. Be reasonable.” The tone in the Headmistress voice was of annoyance, but also of authority.

His father mumbled something about details that had never stopped other Heads of that school before and agreed halfheartedly. “Fine.”

“Very well, then. I can be sure that you’ll warn me if there is any change in his condition in the meantime?” The question was directed at the mediwitch, who nodded. 

“Warn me, too, if you please,” his father added, then nodded courteously to the women again and finally managed to leave the ward. 

Nathan lost interest in the women’s talk. His mind now filled with thoughts of his mother, making him oblivious of everything else.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus walked the corridors of the castle with long strides. With all he had to deal with right now he really didn’t need Hermione Granger added to the lot. It wasn’t until Minerva had mentioned her that he had realized the absence of her in his thoughts for a full hour – the first that week. Their imminent encounter was _not_ what he need right now. 

Waking up from another dream of lips and hands on his face and confessing words, had sent him moodily to his bathroom that morning. Angry with his traitorous thoughts, he had bathed methodically. He had gone through his morning rituals with a frown on his austere face, not even bothering to address himself in the mirror with recriminations, like he’d done the previous morning. He’d simply scowled at himself and left the bathroom to dress and leave his dungeon quarters for what promised to be another infernal day.

Infernal was an understatement, now he knew. When Severus had assessed the condition of his son’s mood before leaving like he did everyday, the grey of his enchanted potion took all thoughts from his mind, nothing else mattered but finding Nathan.

Now he had a son in an infirmary ward, a class of dunderheads to teach, and Hermione Granger to meet. His head ached, reminding him that he hadn’t had time to drink any coffee. 

Severus entered his quarters and banged the door behind him, grimacing at the pang the loud noise brought to his head. He went straight to his small kitchen and prepared a cup of coffee, then slumped into an armchair and sipped at the strong brew. He hoped this would make some of the pain dissipate, and when it didn’t, he pressed his eyes with his fingers, remaining like that for a while. _Headache Potion_ , he thought. He silently Summoned a vial that came straight into his hand. Severus unstoppered the vial and drank from it, not even bothered by the foul taste. 

In the silent room, his headache receded and he started to Summon books from his shelves. A pile of them now rested on the coffee table, only some of the many Severus thought might bring some insight into the curse ailing his son. He made a face at the large number of books, but he had to start somewhere. He took the first three on the top of the pile and left for his morning class.

Severus reduced his lecture to a minimum and soon pointed to the page of the textbook where his third-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws would find the potion to be brewed. He didn’t have to warn them twice of how he wouldn’t tolerate any interruptions and chit-chat during the rest of the class – apparently the first twenty points he’d taken during the lecture were enough to show them he wasn’t in the best of moods.

The first book Severus scanned had nothing enlightening about what could have hit his son. He was again trying to understand how the boy could have been cursed right under his rather large nose. He should have been aware that something was about to happen, that something wasn’t right. He’d been constantly reading his son’s “fan mail”, but nothing had jumped to his suspicious eyes as actually threatening. Obviously, he’d missed something or someone.

Severus left his table to wander about his classroom, scrutinizing over the cauldrons of nervous students. Granger had obviously also missed any clues that could have warned them that something like this would happen, but then Severus hadn’t expected her to see anything. The woman was incredibly blind – about everything – and he would soon meet her again after one of her huge displays of blindness, if not the biggest one.

Severus took two points from Miss Landers for stirring too hard. Thinking about that woman was frustrating. She would sometimes fool him, showing intelligence, seeing into things, predicting happenings, but those moments were now completely overshadowed by…. He frowned, already back to his desk. Her lips were far too soft for someone with such an inflexible mind. He really didn’t want to think about that.

He opened the second book and focused on Nathan’s problem. He knew Poppy had discarded any school-level curse, but he wasn’t ruling them out yet. He had stopped being amazed by what dunderheads were able to do when not even trying. Of course, that would widen his search for a treatment greatly, but he didn’t want to be too simplistic and miss the obvious.

Another book without a curse that seemed to match what had happened to Nathan. How could it be that none of his friends saw anything? If Nathan was hit while already asleep, some of those Gryffindors must have heard or seen something. He needed to interrogate them. He would do that right after this class….

Only after this class he would be Apparating to London to meet Granger. He rubbed his eyes and closed the book he’d just opened. Why did she have to inflict those supple lips upon him? And she had caught him by surprise. Severus Snape hated surprises. What would he do about her? The class was almost over, he had to think fast, he told himself; as if an acceptable answer which hadn’t come to him in all these days would suddenly pop into his head. 

He took the third book he’d brought from his quarters and tried to focus on it again. He was halfway through, noting the lack of help it has been so far, when the students handed in their sample vials and moved out of his dungeons. Alone in his classroom and without any of the answers he needed, Severus left for his quarters to change into Muggle clothes. He would stick with Plan B: ignore their last meeting and simply tell her about Nathan, getting rid of her as soon as possible.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus felt exposed without his robes. Even if his winter cloak covered most of his black suit, too much of his white shirt still showed. The warmer temperature inside the Chemistry Department building didn’t help in the least, obliging him to dispose of his cloak and expose even more of himself. 

The guard informed him where Granger’s office was located, but she wasn’t there. He pondered the possibility of leaving a note under the door and going back to Hogwarts. She would know soon enough and would be obstructing his investigation of the curse in earnest. Only the concealed warning in Minerva’s voice made him walk further down the hall, searching for Granger. It was obvious that Minerva had promised Poppy that they would send Nathan to St. Mungo’s if his mother agreed, and Severus couldn’t let that happen. He needed Granger on his side for this matter, and to achieve that, he had to talk to her personally.

He stopped a young man, probably a student, and asked where he could find her.

“I think I saw her with Professor Brice in the Laboratory of Synthesis. It’s down the hall, the last door to the left, sir.”

Severus inclined his head in thanks and followed the student’s instructions. From the glass windows that gave the room a fish tank appearance, he could see her, and indeed she had company. _Perfect_ , Severus thought sarcastically, _now I’ll have to mind the secrecy of the wizarding world of all things_. He decided to wait and see if the Muggle would leave.

He observed them interact, unaware of the world outside. He could see the Muggle better than he could see her. The man was young, maybe older than Granger by a few years. She was busy with something on the workbench, and they were engaged in conversation. The Muggle smiled while he talked, and Severus didn’t like the way he looked at her when he did so. How long would that go on?

More students filled the hall now, and Severus felt even more out of his element, standing there waiting. He looked around for a better place to stand, and in doing so he caught some of the conversation going on around him, and a comment stood from the rest.

“Don’t be silly, Sarah. Of course he’s dating Professor Granger. Haven’t you noticed how they’re always together?”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, please. Just look at them.”

Severus followed the girls’ eyes to the couple in the lab and caught the Muggle professor pulling Granger’s hair from her face, placing the curly locks behind her ear. At first he only stared, not knowing what to make of the scene, or even why he needed to make anything out of what he was witnessing. Then he was angry and not caring why he felt so.

He decided he had waited long enough and that it wouldn’t be much of an inconvenience if he had to Obliviate the Muggle after all. He crossed the hall and opened the door to the laboratory. Granger looked to the back of the room where the door and he were.

“Severus?”

He glared at them. “We need to talk,” he told her, going straight to the point. 

She didn’t react right away, only looked at him with surprise and then turned back to whatever experiment she was conducting. The Muggle, though, continued to look oddly between them.

“I’m at a critical stage of the experiment,” she said at length, still attentive to her work. “Can it wait five minutes?” She finally turned her head to watch him for his answer. She seemed uncomfortable with his presence in the room.

 _Sorry for interrupting the love birds_ , he thought sarcastically and advanced to where the couple was. The situation disturbed him more than he felt comfortable with. _As if I had any time to spare here while our son is in a hospital bed_. It was what he wanted to say, but he decided to lean back against the empty workbench parallel to the one where Granger worked and waited for her full attention, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the Muggle just to be sure. When that didn’t make that bothersome man leave the room, Severus prepared to deliver his sweet venom on him. Granger glanced quickly at where he stood almost behind her, and he held his tongue to take his scrutiny from the Muggle to her. 

Averting her eyes again, she spoke before he could. “Severus, this is Professor Brice, a colleague of mine. William, this is Professor Snape from that boarding school Nathan attends.”

The Muggle extended a hand to him in courtesy. Severus looked at it, contemplating his next move. Coming to a decision, he finally grabbed the hand and held the man’s eyes, adding to Granger’s introduction, “And Nathan’s father.” 

Glass chimed over at Granger’s workbench, and Severus felt a corner of his mouth pulling up, trying to form a smirk. The Muggle seemed taken aback by the statement, as he should be.

“It’s nice to finally meet Nathan’s father,” the man managed, covering his uneasiness quite well and tightening his grasp on Severus’ hand uncomfortably before letting go. 

Granger couldn’t disguise her nervousness nearly as expertly. “I’m done here,” she said, turning to them. Her eyes looked for his, searchingly. Severus had her attention at last.

“We need to talk,” Severus repeated his earlier statement. 

“We can use my office; it’s down the hall–” 

“Or he can leave,” Severus suggested, pointing a thumb in the direction of the inconvenient Muggle.

“I’ll stay if you want me to, Hermione.”

Severus raised an eyebrow at that Muggle’s petulance and then looked at Granger. She was fidgeting. He crossed his arms over his chest again.

“That won’t be necessary, Will. Thank you.” 

But to prove that annoying was his trait, the Muggle insisted, “Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind staying.”

Severus rolled his eyes.

“I’m positive. Thank you again, Will. I’ll talk to you later.” She physically pushed the glaring man towards the door. He acquiesced reluctantly, murmuring something to Granger before finally walking out the door.

“Your boyfriend is very protective of you,” Severus commented. “Does he know you go around kissing other men behind his back?”

Granger gasped and then glared at him. “There is nothing between William and me, Severus. I wish there was, but alas, I can’t care for him as more than a friend. The heart is a dumb thing. Take mine for an example, it chose _you_ instead of him.”

Severus grimaced, angry. “A Hufflepuff would have been touched.”

She sighed. “Why are you here?” she asked.

“Nathan, why else?”

“What about him?” she asked, her features completely changed to concern. 

“He’s in the Hospital Wing,” he said and braced himself for the barrage of questions that was sure to follow.

“Why? What happened? Is he all right? Of course he’s not; you wouldn’t be here otherwise. It’s serious, isn’t it?”

He waited.

“Say something!” she demanded.

“Are you quite finished?” he asked.

“Just say it!”

“He’s asleep,” he started. She frowned. “We can’t wake him up,” he added, and her lips parted before he completed, “yet.”

She took a hand to her forehead. “Why is he asleep? What happened?”

“We suspect it’s a curse-induced sleep,” he answered, not wanting to prolong her visible distress.

“A curse…. Who did that to him?” The eyes that stared at him were now fierce and bright. “Severus?”

“I don’t know.” He let his own distress over the situation emerge as impatience and brushed back his hair.

“What? You mean you don’t know who cursed him? What cursed him?” Her indignation and its veiled accusation were not lost in him.

“He was perfectly fine yesterday. I only found him this morning, in Gryffindor Tower, on his bed, sleeping. If I didn’t have to teach or waste my time coming here under Minerva’s orders, I might have found out what is happening to him already.”

“Why didn’t you say so? We’re wasting precious time!” She turned from him and headed for the door. 

They hadn’t discussed St. Mungo’s yet. “Granger! I’m not done with you yet!” he called, but she didn’t stop. “Damn!” he cursed under his breath. He couldn’t use magic to lock the door before she would leave; he would have to go after her.

Following her through the halls, he reached her by the end of the corridor. “Granger!” He grabbed her arm, halting her progress. 

She turned, angry with him. “We’re wasting time, Severus!” she repeated and tried to free herself. “Let go of my arm, please.”

He looked around them; there were Muggles everywhere. “Stupid Muggle institution,” he cursed in a murmur, annoyed that he had to measure his words. “Poppy wants to send him to St. Mungo’s. If she asks for your permission, deny it.” He released her arm. “Now I’m done with you.”

“St. Mungo’s?” Her worried frown deepened, her eyes became unfocused. He could see her throat working as she gulped. “How grave is it? Don’t hide anything from me, Severus. Just tell me what you know.”

“There is no need to send him to St. Mungo’s. He’s stable, there’s nothing wrong with his vital signs; he’s merely sleeping.”

“Why would Poppy suggest St. Mungo’s, then?” She bit her bottom lip.

“I already told you, we don’t know how to wake him up yet. When Poppy doesn’t know what to do, she sends for St. Mungo’s instead of taking her lazy arse off of her chair and doing research.” 

She stared at him for a moment. When the moment extended for more than he felt comfortable with, Severus sighed, annoyed.

“Until I know what’s going on, he won’t leave Hogwarts.”

She took her eyes from him and looked somewhere in the distance, seeming to consider his words, or so he hoped. At least the woman wasn’t stupid; she would know the risks involved in taking Nathan out of the castle.

“I need to see him,” she said suddenly. Her eyes focused on him again, brighter than before. “I’ve got to see him.” She turned from him and took her way through the corridor, taking a right turn where it ended. 

Severus clenched and unclenched his hands before deciding to follow her, cursing again. It wouldn’t help if she were to Apparate and splinched herself in her haste; he really didn’t need that right now. He turned the corridor in time to see her going through a door and, unfortunately, _that_ Muggle following her inside. 

A few quick strides left Severus in front of the open door, and he could see Granger shuffling papers about a desk, her back to him, and the Muggle hovering about. He could also hear what they were saying.

“You’re distressed. I think you should sit down and calm yourself, Hermione.”

“I don’t have the time, Will. Can you do me a favor and explain to Dr. Ghazali that I had a family emergency and had to leave in a hurry? I don’t think he’s in his office right now, and I don’t want to wait for him.”

“Hermione, tell me what’s wrong with Nathan…. Maybe I can help.”

Severus really didn’t like the way that man spoke his son’s name. 

Granger blinked a few times, visibly trying to rein in her emotions. “You’re helping,” she answered, eyes on the desk.

The man finally caught sight of him by the door. Severus crossed his arms authoritatively. Granger glanced up to look at… that Muggle nuisance and followed his attention to the door and him. She paused in what she was doing and seemed to be expecting Severus to say something. 

“You’re coming with me,” he said.

She didn’t argue and quickly resumed her task. The Muggle continued to stare at him, though. Severus held his gaze impassively, leaning against the doorframe. 

The staring continued for a while longer, until Granger broke their concentration. “I’ll be going, then. Here’s a note for Dr. Ghazali. Thanks for everything, Will. I’ll let you know if I have to be absent for long.” She handed him a folded sheet of paper, took her coat and bag, and walked to where Severus stood.

Severus straightened his posture and moved aside. The Muggle left the room before Granger, but waited in the corridor while she locked the office. 

“I’ll walk with you.” 

_This Muggle is truly irritating!_

“That won’t be necessary,” Severus intervened before Granger could say anything. He took her by the arm and led her to the exit, leaving the Muggle to watch. 

Some steps into the chilly day, Severus turned to his quiet companion to inquire, “Where can we Apparate from?”

She conducted them through the grounds of the university. Her silence was somehow disconcerting; that wasn’t how he thought she would react to the situation or to his presence. Then Severus reflected on what he knew about Hermione Granger and concluded that nothing concerning her should surprise him anymore. This morning was another good example – no yelling, no crying, no running around like mad… and a Muggle boyfriend. 

They entered a dead-end between two buildings where they stopped. She had her wand already in hand when he shook himself from the memory of that intruding Muggle’s fingers on Granger’s hair and grabbed her hand.

Surprised but still haunted eyes answered his move by staring mutely at him.

“I won’t come back for any part you leave behind.” He held his wand in one hand and moved the other to grab her upper arm instead of her wrist. She stepped closer, and before he could react, he was wrapped in her arms, her head on his shoulder. She had her eyes closed, trusting him blindly.

It took him a moment – an inhalation of her scent – to bring his brain back and in order to manage a successful Apparition. With a crack louder than he had produced in years, he vanished them from London and stood now, still enveloped by her warm body, in Hogsmeade. Apparently, every part of them had made through intact, including her scent. He inhaled deeply, answering to his impulsive need of enjoying her fragrance again.

She loosened her hold of him and stepped back slowly. She opened her eyes to look straight into his chest, where her head had rested and a hand was pressed, fingers running down his tie. He observed her attentively, unsure of what would follow, but she didn’t lift her gaze, only turned and, still silent, walked to the gates and into the grounds of Hogwarts. 

A shudder ran through his body, and if it was due to the loss of the contact with her body or the chilly winter day, he wasn’t going to think about it. His son was in the warm castle, cursed, _needing_ him. That should be the only thought on his mind at the moment. 

Crossing the grounds, through the doors and straight to the Hospital Wing, Severus followed Granger so he could make sure she wouldn’t go against his will to keep Nathan at Hogwarts.

They entered the infirmary, Granger looking around, trying to decide where to start looking for their son.

“Where?” she asked.

Severus pointed to the left ward and entered just after her. When she caught eye of Nathan, she increased her pace to almost a jog, while he approached with less haste. His boy seemed even paler than earlier, and Severus feared that his condition had changed for the worse in the hours of his absence. 

“Oh, honey….”

Granger touched the small, white hand with her trembling one. Severus watched in silence.

“Sweetie, you’re so cold,” she whispered loud enough that Severus could hear; her free hand flying to Nathan’s forehead. 

“Why didn’t you let me know that she was here?” Poppy admonished him in passing, quickly approaching the bed. Severus didn’t reply.

“He’s cold. He needs more blankets.” Granger had both her hands on Nathan’s face. “He’s cold!” She glared, but her imperativeness lost some of its force with the tears flowing freely down her face.

Poppy cast one of her diagnosis spells, then addressed the woman still attached to her patient. “He’s deeply asleep; it’s not uncommon that his body temperature is lower than normal. Ms. Granger, even though we suspect the cause of his slumber is a curse, we don’t know for sure what curse it is, if it’s any. I don’t have means to treat him here. I need your consent to send him to St. Mungo’s where a specialist can examine him.”

Severus stepped closer to the bed when the mediwitch mentioned St. Mungo’s. Poppy glanced pointedly at him; he glared at her. Granger continued to stare at Nathan’s pale face.

“How can someone hurt an innocent child? What did he possibly do to deserve this?”

The pain in her voice disarmed him a bit. _He was born my son_ , he reasoned as an answer to her question, fixing his eyes on his son’s covered feet.

“Ms. Granger, I think the Healers at St. Mungo’s might be able to help him, but I need your consent to send him through,” Poppy insisted.

“He can’t leave Hogwarts.”

At those words, Severus looked back at her and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“There is nothing I can do for him here. I don’t know what Severus told–”

“That he’ll find out what’s going on and will find a way to wake up Nathan, that’s what he’s told me. By the way,” Granger sniffed and turned to him, “what are you still doing here? You were supposed to be researching.”

His eyebrows shot up at that. When her petulant chin went up a bit more, he narrowed his eyes and said, “I might as well do that, since you’ve got ‘crying over the sleeping boy’ covered.” He turned, missing the billow his wizarding robes always made, and headed for the door. 

“I’ll be joining you soon,” she called after him.

 _Of course she will_ , he thought, striding out into the corridors of Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your faith in me and this story, it means the world to me.
> 
>  **Coming next…** Severus and Hermione work together, and Nathan finds a way to be heard.


	26. A New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Hermione work together, and Nathan finds a way to be heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Indigofeathers – thank you very much!

Nathan had watched his mother come in, without really taking much notice of the man who had followed her. His mother had come, and although he had wanted to avoid this moment since he had realized how screwed up he was, now that she was there, Nathan felt only sad that he couldn’t hug her tight. 

She had cried quietly, and he had cried with her. She had let her hand slide over the forehead of his sleeping form, and he had tried to touch her back, comfort her, but only got immensely frustrated in the process, spilling angry tears. She had sat by the bed and stared at his body, and he had stood by her chair, watching sadly. 

Remorse was eating his shiny little soul, and he’d tried in vain to perform the counter-curse for the umpteenth time, to no avail. 

His mother had been so silent that she startled him when she suddenly stood up and kissed his fleshy forehead after smoothing back black hair.

“We’ll find out what’s wrong. Your father can be a lot of things, but he’s a very intelligent man who knows a lot about curses. He’ll help me find a cure, don’t worry.”

_“I know, Mum.”_

“I’ll go find some books,” she continued to tell him in a soft, soothing voice, “but I’ll be back to check on you later.” She bent over to kiss him between the eyebrows and then his cheek. “Happy birthday, honey.”

She wiped away a stubborn tear, and Nathan watched her leave with his saddened, translucent eyes. _“I’m so sorry, Mum.”_ The sorrowful energy couldn’t be held back and it leaked down his face – tears of his own. He would never try a spell on himself again, and he would never want to know _anything_ about the Dark Arts while he lived. It was a promise he would keep. He wanted so much to go back into his body. If only he could go back in time and never perform this stupid spell. 

But time wasn’t coming back. Instead, an infinite amount of time passed, or so it seemed for Nathan. Madam Pomfrey had come to check on him before and after lunch; nothing had changed. His mother hadn’t come back yet, and neither had Professor Snape.

He didn’t know why he had stayed with his body when his mother had left the Hospital Wing. Sitting down on the floor by the bed was melancholy. There was nothing he could do there, and there must be something he could do other than stare at the green wallpaper of the infirmary in misery. He would go mad from waiting for what he didn’t think was coming.

He needed to leave the Hospital Wing, to test his limits. If he felt something different with the distance, he could always come back and remain near his body for the rest of this half-life. The possibility ached and he had to try; he had to leave – now.

So he did, and he decided to steer to the library, and there he went without feeling anything that would have stopped him. Searching the hall, he found the reason for his need to be there: his mother.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione’s head was a mess of screaming disorder, she was so stressed. She needed to calm down and be able to think a full thought. It’d been a while since she felt like this: worried sick. 

What she needed was to focus. Nathan needed her. He was so pale that he could blend in with the ghosts. Never had she seen him so helpless, and that was making _her_ helpless. He was not prepared; she had not prepared him for life in the wizarding world. She was failing her son.

Hermione had assumed he would be safe in the castle, that nothing more than the childish jinxes usually exchanged between Hogwarts’ students would send him to the Hospital Wing and cause her to be summoned by the Headmistress. Voldemort _was_ dead, his followers were dead or imprisoned; there had been no reason for worry! 

_Wrong, wrong and wrong, Hermione!_ She mocked herself angrily.

But he was supposed to be under surveillance – Severus was supposed to be watching over him. He’d even devised that troublesome necklace, for Christ’s sake! Where was he when the son he said he was watching and protecting was being attacked by God knows who? Inside the castle, no less!

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to be calm and rational. She knew it wasn’t Severus’ fault; the blame rest mostly on her. Severus didn’t know how to be a father, so she had no right in charging him on that. 

Then why was she blaming him?

_Because he was here and he should have known what was going on!_

Hermione sighed. This line of thought wasn’t getting her anywhere. What she needed was to clear her mind so that she could focus to find a cure for her baby.

Taking a deep breath, she went back to the book she’d been studying, clicking her Muggle pen to take notes of any information slightly important in helping Nathan. It was the fourth she was reading on the subject. Sleeping spells… why there were so many of them? This should not have happened….

_He should have been watching over you, honey._

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan approached his mother, ignoring all the other occupants of the hall. She had her head bent over a huge, ancient-looking book, pen in hand, taking notes on whatever she was reading. He stopped next to her, trying to read what she was studying. It was about sleep disorders caused by magic.

Nathan sighed. _“You should be studying Soul Magic, Mum!”_ A dread that she would never find out what was actually wrong with him came back heavy on his ethereal chest, leaving him slumped on a chair by her side. Hopelessness seemed to render him unable to move, unwilling to forego her silent company, so he remained there, trying his best not to think. 

Once more, time refused to work backwards, and as it passed, Nathan grew bored of watching the movement of students in the library and of his mother’s note-taking. The sheer force needed to keep his mind empty proved ineffective and a singular thought wouldn’t leave him alone. She was wasting her time – their time – and he couldn’t find a way of telling her that. 

He tried to move the eraser resting on the table, but his not-so-solid fingers kept going through it without the least of disturbance. He stared at the offending object and was startled when his mother closed the book she’d been studying and started gathering her things. At least they were moving on from the fruitless search. 

Nathan followed her into the halls of Hogwarts castle, not ready to let go of her quite yet.

~o0oOo0o~

She would not try to deny that the time she’d reached the end of the last book she’d selected suited her schedule well. The classes had been over for at least a quarter of hour, so she could head straight to the dungeons to discuss her findings with Severus. When she’d finally managed to keep her irrational irritation of him out of her way, she’d accomplished as much research on sleeping charms and spells as humanly possible for an afternoon.

The students, portraits and what else crossed her way to the core of the castle went almost unregistered. Eager to go through the implications of her findings and to soon prove any of them right, Hermione stopped only to open the door to Severus’ office, without even remembering to knock.

“I’ve listed some curses–”

The man bent over books on the desk held a hand up, successfully interrupting her speech, but not her advance into the room. He finished reading and taking notes on a piece of parchment, and she was upon him by then. When he finally looked up, she thrust her carefully compiled list in front of him. 

“These are the curses I’ve listed. I’m heading to the Hospital Wing to run some tests, but I wanted to check on you first. I thought you might have something to add or that you might want to be there to see the results. I didn’t find specifics on possible side-effects the testing may cause, although I don’t see why there would be any. Anyway....”

She made a pause for air after saying that all in one breath. When she was going to continue with explanations for her suspicions of each of the listed spells, she held her tongue, watching him go quickly through the list of curses and hexes, and even marking the paper in that horrid green ink as if it was another of his student’s essays.

“I’ve tested him for most of them. It’s none,” he said curtly, going back to his note-taking. “You may test for the others I marked, but I don’t think there will be any positive response.”

_You did what?_

The annoyance that Hermione had diligently worked to abate was back as quickly as the blink of an eye.

“When have you tested him? Didn’t you have classes all afternoon?” She wouldn’t be able to hold herself back even if she wanted to, and right now, she didn’t much care. “Have you even thought that I might have wanted to be there for any and every test?” She glared at him in anger, noting with increased belligerence that it didn’t have any effect on the infuriating man. “Do you know how stupid you make me feel every time you make me discard a whole afternoon of work?” she accused, waving the now useless list in her hand. “We’re both coming up with the same list of curses! If I knew someone else would be helping with the research, like you very well did, I would have the decency to let the person know what books I would be looking at first or would ask the person to join me in searching! We’re in this together, for God’s sake! We’re both his parents!”

Her tone of voice had risen as the rant was spilt. Hermione’s anger grew to a level she hadn’t reached in a long time, and Severus didn’t even have the decency to look at her while she spoke.

“Severus!” she called.

The most unbelievably exasperating of wizards continued to move his quill over the parchment as if there wasn’t even anyone there, let alone screaming at him. She clenched her hands in fists, crumpling the edges of the paper she held and feeling like hitting him for such blatant disregard. She quickly bent over the desk that protected him and… and… grabbed the quill from his hand as a consolation prize. 

“I’m talking to you!” she hissed.

“How very mature,” was all he said, taking another quill from the holder on the desk and dipping it in dark green ink. “I’m trying to add as much detail as possible to the observations I made of each test, so if you can refrain from shrieking while I reminisce, that would be appreciated.”

Oh, she would hit that large nose and make him take that right back, she was so angry! Only…. 

She _needed_ to know what he had found out about what was addling their son as much as she needed air. Hermione felt for the strength that had been pushing her on since Severus had found her in the university, and it was not there. Weak and defeated, she let her body fall heavily on the uncomfortable chair just behind her, hiding her face in her hands. 

_God, I’m pathetic!_

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan watched the scene unfold before him with apprehension. He was sure his mother would explode if she didn’t do something to dissipate her anger quickly. Nathan had seen his mother angry on many occasions and knew she had reached the highest level he’d seen in his life. He would never push her past that stage of anger.

He looked at his father; the man acted as if he hadn’t been interrupted, ignoring her completely. The disdain he showed for his mother’s distress was starting to annoy Nathan more and more. His displeasure with Professor Snape increased when his mother fell heavily on a chair in front of the desk and held her head in hands, elbows on her knees. Nathan even reached a hand to touch her voluminous hair, but retreated upon remembering he was unable to comfort her by touch or any other means. 

_“Look what you did!”_ he told the man, even though he knew that he couldn’t be heard. _“Why do you have to be such a git all of the time?”_

“Just… don’t do that again,” his mother said into her hands. Nathan continued to glare at Professor Snape.

As improbable as it might have seemed, those few, quiet words from his mother, after all the shouting, gained Professor Snape’s attention. Nathan saw when he stopped scribbling and looked up, observing her intently. His expression was the one Nathan usually saw on those harsh features: dispassionately and infuriatingly blank. What made Nathan’s disapproval of the man’s attitude abate a little was how long he stared at his mother, as if he was contemplating something very serious and important about her. Professor Snape’s dramatic sigh called to his mother’s attention, making her look at him; their eyes met.

“What do you suggest, then? That I stop trying to find a cure because it interferes with your schedule?” 

His mother reclined on the chair, waving a hand in the air. “Whatever,” she said. “I just don’t want to waste any more time in fruitless research. Just don’t do that again.”

“I’ll find out what is wrong with Nathan.”

The way his father said that, punctuated with his given name, made the remnants of Nathan’s anger dissipate – his father was actually trying to help him. His mother was still holding Professor Snape’s eyes, as if they could communicate more through that connection than with actual words. Whatever they conveyed to each other, they seemed to have reached an agreement of some sort. His mother closed her eyes and sighed.

“Tell me what you’ve learned from the tests?” she asked him.

“It’s not a sleeping curse,” his father told her.

The previous exchange – the shouting, the harsh words – all but forgotten, they started to talk about what information Professor Snape’s tests had revealed. Nathan listened for a while, his hopes renewed after his father’s statement, but soon his attention drifted elsewhere, lest his frustration at watching two brilliant adults struggling with other wrong theories take him over the edge of his thinly held-together sanity.

He inspected the jars leaning the shelves – some containing floating things he could recognize, others more challenging. Nathan was still listening to what his parents were discussing over at the desk, but he tried not to think about what he heard, preferring the distraction of the jars and their contents. 

Despite the distraction, his mind would drift and try to find ways to end this torment. He tried to reverse the spell a dozen times more without success, before giving up again. If only he could tell the couple by the desk what had happened, where the right book could be found…. 

A scratch of wood on stone followed by his father’s voice broke Nathan’s concentration.

“I need to attend dinner in the Great Hall,” the professor complained, then added in a growl, “Stupid rule-breakers.” 

“I’ll move to the lab,” his mother said in answer, standing up as well and gathering her things. 

Nathan approached the desk to better listen to his parents.

“You should come with me.” Professor Snape was scowling down at his mother, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“I promise I won’t play with your toys while you’re gone,” she assured him, adjusting the books and papers in her arms before looking up at him. 

“You’ll be less of a nuisance if you’re fed.”

That was an insult, right? Nathan could have sworn that it was, but his mother was looking at Professor Snape with that expression she held for when he did something she thought endearing; one that was almost always followed by a wet kiss on his cheek and some fondling of his hair. That gave Nathan pause. Would his mother try to kiss Professor Snape on the cheek? But then again, it wasn’t unheard of that mothers would kiss fathers on the cheek; he’d seen his friend’s mothers kiss their fathers on the cheek more than once….

“I’ll order something from the kitchens, don’t worry,” she answered, trying to smile. The glow in her eyes was almost genuine, Nathan noticed. Professor Snape had insulted her and that made her happy? He would never understand adults.

Professor Snape’s scowl deepened before he nodded and left the office without looking back. His mother and Nathan watched him leave. Nathan followed his mother with his eyes when she finally retreated to the lab. He thought for a second and decided that the Great Hall would be less boring than another hour or so watching his mother read.

He crossed through the door at a trot, eyes screwed shut, and followed his father’s steps down the dungeon’s dark corridors.

~o0oOo0o~

“Nathan is still sleeping, then?” asked Jose.

“Yes,” Kevin confirmed to her and Anna, who had looked up when he approached the table with Andy. 

Jose seemed sad with the news. 

None of them were aware of their invisible companion while they talked about the happenings of the day. Nathan had met his friends on the way to the Great Hall and now listened with attention, standing right behind Kevin and Andy at the Gryffindor table.

“What do you think happened to him?” Jose asked. “Do they know?”

“I thought Professor Lupin would have found out by now, but after an afternoon questioning the whole House for nothing, I’m not so sure. There was a time I thought he wouldn’t run out of questions,” Anna confessed.

“He did, only he went back to the same ones over and over again,” Andy said.

“So they still don’t know…” concluded Jose.

“Maybe he thinks you’re hiding something,” Anna accused. “What were you doing last night after all?”

Andy was about to say something when Kevin elbowed him. “That’s none of your business.”

Andy rubbed at the side of his ribs, glaring at Kevin, before saying, “No, we’re not hiding anything, Anna.”

They were, as Nathan knew quite well; they were hiding the book – the very thing that would help his parents and Professor Lupin put things right again. 

_“You should hand the book to Professor Lupin,”_ he told them, knowing they wouldn’t hear him, but not caring. 

“We don’t know what happened, or we would have told Professor Lupin,” Kevin added, and that Nathan knew to be the truth.

“Maybe Snape is behind this. He could have cursed Nathan,” Anna conspired, careful not to be heard by anyone else. “If he was concerned, don’t you think he would rather be with Nathan than show up for dinner? Wasn’t he supposed to be worried?” she asked, diverting all eyes to the High Table. “Professor Lupin is absent.”

“Poor Nathan…” Jose lamented. 

“Professor Snape has nothing to do with this. Nathan wouldn’t like to hear you saying that.” Nathan was thankful to Andy for dislodging the accusation. The only one who could be blamed was himself.

No one commented on anything else, but Nathan wasn’t mistaken by the doubt evident on the girls’ expressions before they went back to their dinner. Kevin did the same; only his features didn’t show the doubt Nathan saw on the girls’ faces. Andy stared at their professor a little longer before resuming his dinner quietly. 

Nathan felt suddenly very tired. The day seemed to have lasted as long as a week, and he could only imagine what a week of this would feel like. He sighed and closed his eyes, and when he opened them, it was to find a running boy on track to collide with him. Instinctively, he took a step closer to the table, reaching out for support, but finding nothing that would be solid to help him. He looked down and saw with wide eyes that his hand had gone through Andy’s shoulder. He withdrew hurriedly.

Andy shuddered at the immaterial touch, or was it Nathan’s imagination? “Was that a ghost?” the boy asked Kevin.

“No, it was Aston. He’s already losing points for running.” Kevin clicked his tongue. 

Nathan reached out to touch again, now on purpose, and watched his friend shudder. Andy looked over his shoulder to where he stood. If his friend could feel that….

“I think it was a ghost,” Andy insisted, confirming Nathan’s suspicions that he’d felt something. 

Kevin shrugged, but Nathan could only smile. Andy had felt his touch! Inadvertently, Nathan did it again and laughed when Andy shuddered and dropped the fork, looking from side to side, searching for the source of his distress.

 _“I’m right behind you,”_ Nathan said, grinning, to what he got no answer. 

Well, even if they could feel his presence, they couldn’t hear him yet. But still! Nathan tried to touch Kevin the same way he did Andy, but that didn’t seem to work. 

_“Hmm, interesting,”_ he mused.

He touched Andy once more. This time his friend stood up quickly, turning around, ready to admonish who or whatever he thought was causing the chills. 

Nathan laughed at him, but it was more out of happiness for his discovery than of his friend’s predicament. He felt like hugging him. This was a huge development! 

“Nick!” Andy said, and Nathan spun on his translucent heels to see what his friend was looking at. “I’m trying to have dinner here!”

“Excuse me?” Nearly-Headless Nick inquired.

Nathan smirked. Andy thought it was the ghost! He touched Andy’s shoulder just to make a point. Andy shuddered, growling while the tremor ran through his spine. 

“It’s not funny!” his friend protested.

Nathan looked around. There were a few students staring. Maybe he could call the teachers’ attention; maybe his father would notice and would understand what was happening to Andy; maybe they would find a way to communicate!

He used both hands to touch Andy this time, hoping it would cause a stronger reaction.

It did. Andy jumped forward.

“Stop it!” Andy glared at Nick. “I thought you ghosts weren’t supposed to do that!”

The ghost approached and said, “There is no ghost distressing you, my boy. Maybe you should ask your sleeping friend there to stop playing tricks on you.”

Nick glared at Nathan, whose eyes widened.

 _“You can see me!”_ he exclaimed.

“Of course I do. Now stop touching the awake,” the ghost reprimanded.

 _“You can hear me as well!”_ Nathan’s eyes couldn’t go wider.

“Who are you talking to?” Andy asked.

“You won’t be bothered again, my boy. You should enjoy the food while you still can.” Nick’s eyes strayed longingly to the food on Andy’s plate, then the ghost floated away, muttering something about meatballs.

Nathan left his confused friends and practically ran after the ghost of Gryffindor House, screaming _“Wait! Wait, Nick!”_

After searching the first and second floors, Nathan was dispirited. Where were all the ghosts of this castle when he needed them? Now that he knew that they could see and talk to him, there were none around. 

He found a few ghosts during his perambulations, but as soon as they spotted him, they fled. It was way past curfew when Nathan was strolling the dungeons and saw a shimmering glow from around the corner. He smiled when he noticed that the ghost didn’t flee as he approached. 

But as soon as he recognized who the ghost was, Nathan’s smile slipped. Nathan stared at the figure floating only a few feet from him while he decided how to approach him. _He can’t hurt you. Don’t be afraid. You’re a Gryffindor_ , he mentally told himself. 

“What?” asked the intimidating figure, startling Nathan, who didn’t think that the ghost had seen him yet….

 _“I…”_ he started, lifting his head to adjust his attention as the tall ghost approached.

“You’re not a Slytherin,” the ghost surmised. “What do you want here?”

 _“I need your help, Baron, sir. I need you to speak with Professor Snape.”_ Nathan’s voice wasn’t the firmest he’d ever used, but it came out steady enough. 

“What business would a Gryffindor have with the Head of Slytherin House?” the suspicious ghost asked, narrowing his eyes.

Nathan didn’t know how the Baron had found out he was a Gryffindor. This ghost was definitely creepy, and he wanted to keep the chat to a minimum. _“I’m Professor Snape’s son, Baron, sir,” he answered without preamble. “I’m without my body and he can’t hear or see me. I need his help to undo the spell that did this to me. Would you talk to him for me, sir?”_

The silence that followed was the eeriest thing Nathan had ever experienced. His soul shuddered, defying his lack of body, when the bloodied ghost approached even more, as if he was trying to sense Nathan by smell. 

“Follow me,” the Baron said, drifting quickly through a wall. 

Nathan hated it, but he followed him through, and many other objects he had to overpass before they were in the middle of his father’s living room. It was darker than usual with only the dying flames of the hearth to illuminate it. He looked around, but his father was nowhere to be found.

“He’s asleep,” came in the hoarse whisper of the ghost drifting from a wall Nathan hadn’t seen he’d crossed until then. 

Nathan opened his mouth to ask him if there was any means to wake the professor, but the ghost was already floating away, leaving his father’s quarters. Nathan could only stare at the spot on the wall the ghost had chosen to traverse. 

_“He knew I needed him,”_ he said and thought he sounded desperate even to his own ethereal ears.

_“Nathan?”_

At the sound of another voice – that deep voice – calling his name, Nathan spun on his heels at a speed that would have made him sway if it wasn’t for his lack of mass. There, before his gaping face, stood, as translucent as himself, the soul of his father.

 _How could that be?_ Nathan didn’t know, and he wasn’t in any condition to rationalize past the question. 

_“Thank Merlin it’s you,”_ his father’s soul let out in a soft tone that Nathan had never heard from the man before.

Professor Snape was seeing and talking to him, and that was everything he’d longed for since this whole mess started. The relief of finally completing the quest that started when Nearly-Headless Nick had spoken to him was overwhelming, but it felt like nothing compared to the vibrating energy coming from his approaching father, who was crossing the room towards him, and it only intensified when Professor Snape took his small head into his large hands. The light emanating from eyes usually so black captured Nathan’s full attention, and he let himself be thoroughly inspected.

_“Where have you been?”_

Nathan had barely registered the words, so quiet was the question.

 _“I…”_ he tried to answer, but it was hard to form anything coherent when surrounded by such strong feelings. Anxiety, relief, contentment, and something warm that he couldn’t identify seemed to dance through him, and Nathan was almost certain that the emotions he was sensing weren’t entirely his doing.

 _“You’ve got me worried,”_ his father continued. _“You can’t simply leave your body and not go back like that, young man!”_

Even the harsher tone of this last statement was nothing compared to Professor Snape’s usual displays of displeasure. It was, though, enough for the overwhelming energy to dissipate a little, leaving Nathan with a feeling of loss he couldn’t fully understand.

 _“I want to,”_ he finally managed to answer. _“I’ve tried,”_ he added, _“many, many times, sir.”_ Nathan felt like crying, the ability of absorbing those waves of foreign feelings combined with his own being more than he could handle. 

That must have showed on his shining face. One of the hands resting on his shoulders came to brush his fine hair in the soothing way he’d seen it doing to his body’s head that morning when no one was looking.

_“Explain yourself, Nathan.”_

He closed his eyes. _“It’s a spell,”_ he started at his father’s request. _“I cast it on myself, and now I can’t cast the counter-spell, and I’m locked outside of my body, but I want to go back, I just don’t know how, and I’ve followed all the instructions, I did everything right, and it still won’t work, and I don’t know what else to do–”_

 _“Shhh.”_ His father broke into his rambling explanation, bringing Nathan’s head to press against his torso. Nathan went silent like the tears he’d been spilling, reveling in such intense contact.

_“You need to calm yourself if you want me to understand what you’re saying.”_

Instinctively, Nathan went about the motions involved in taking deep breaths, and even if no air was needed, the act made the vibration of the flickering of the light they were made of quiet slightly. He felt protected, and that was all he needed to halt the flow of tears streaking his cheeks. 

_“You mentioned a spell.”_

Nathan nodded in agreement.

_“What kind of spell?”_

_“A soul spell,”_ he answered to the deep voice. He hadn’t felt this small since he’d left pre-school for primary school.

His father released him, stepping back. _“You shouldn’t know any such spell. Where did you learn it?”_

_“In a book, sir.”_

_“Of course.”_

_“I’m sorry,”_ Nathan apologized.

_“I know you are.”_

Now that there was a distance between him and Professor Snape, the energetic field that had shaken his soul had lost force, and he could think past his emotions. Professor Snape had actually acknowledged his apology.

Nathan stared at the man settling on the couch and tried to filter the actions from the waves of emotions that had taken place from the moment he’d heard his name that night. It wasn’t an easy exercise, and the silence in the dungeons at that ungodly hour became disturbing.

His father had greeted him with concern, and although he could remember one or two isolated occasions when he’d thought Professor Snape might have been worried about him, there was always a lingering doubt brought by the actions that would follow. Not today, though. 

Today his father had been openly concerned, going to the extent of voicing it.

Nathan continued to stare at the soul of his father while he let himself be transported back into the moment he’d been held, dare he think kindly, by those shiny arms, engulfed in warmth not completely, or at all, physical.

His father had hugged him, actually hugged him.

 _“You were hugging me.”_ It finally became words.

The eyes that hadn’t left him all the while he’d been staring danced, giving Nathan all the answer he would get, and he felt hugged again. 

_“Come over here,”_ his father beckoned, and Nathan obeyed, hypnotized by that new-found light that insisted on bestowing warmth from otherwise cold, black eyes. _“You’ve had a trying day.”_ That and a nod to his right completed the invitation to join him on the couch.

Nathan sat down and then frowned. _“Who are you?”_

His father arched an eyebrow at his question. _“Was that a soul spell or a memory charm?”_

_“You hugged me.”_

_“You were distressed.”_

_“And you hugged me.”_

Professor Snape rolled his eyes and, with that, dismissed the matter. 

_“Tell me about the spell,”_ he prompted.

Nathan put his confusion aside in favor of explaining the spell he’d cast on himself. In recounting his actions the night before, he realized how simple the spell had been, and yet it turned out a complication of such astronomic proportions….

 _“Where is this book?”_ his father wanted to know afterwards.

_“It’s in Kevin’s trunk.”_

_“Tell me about the counter-spell again.”_

_What? Won’t he leave right away to punish my friends for such grave disregard of the school rules? Won’t he even mention it, deduct House Point or… or… whatever?_

When Nathan had decided to tell the professor where the book was, he’d braced himself for the worst. What he got was even far more than what he’d classify as the best. This was plain weird. It was as if Professor Snape didn’t mind that a Restricted Section book was hidden in a trunk inside Gryffindor Tower. Nathan’s rising suspicions couldn’t be silenced any longer.

 _“You’re not Professor Snape.”_ He was on his feet to make that accusation. He took the magical imprint of his wand in hand.

_“Professor Snape, Nathan?”_

His name and the tone in which it was voiced made him actually point the wand at that stranger.

The man looked from the wand to his face and… smiled. 

_“Always prepared.”_ He nodded appreciatively. _“That’s my boy.”_

 _“I’m not!”_ Nathan said, and energy accumulated on the tip of his wand, shining dangerously at the man, who opened his arms and hands beside his head to show he wouldn’t fight Nathan’s magic. _“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Professor Snape,”_ he added, more controlled.

_“I’m Severus, your father.”_

_“You can’t be! He wouldn’t act like this, talk to me like that. He wouldn’t know how to leave his body and be–”_

_“Here in spirit with you?”_ the man completed before he could. _“You retained your consciousness, I see…. Come over here,”_ the man beckoned.

Nathan didn’t budge, nor lowered his wand.

 _“Fine.”_ His father seemed to sadden with that short acknowledgement. _“When the body rests during the sleep, the soul is free to rest as well,”_ he started to explain.

That wasn’t enough for Nathan, who stared sternly at the man until he continued, _“We’re free to be who we would be if we weren’t under our brains’ wrath all the time.”_ Their eyes met by the man’s insistence. _“I’m free to simply be Severus, your father.”_

Nathan didn’t realize he’d lowered his wand while his mind worked to understand what he was being told. Confused, he asked, _“Are we dreaming?”_

The man smiled with a sincerity Nathan had never seen from him before. 

_“Come sit with me,”_ he invited.

Nathan walked slowly to the couch and, frowning, sat by the soul claiming to be his father’s. 

_“Part of what is going on here is registering on the subconscious part of my brain, so yes, this will register as a dream,”_ the man explained further.

Nathan looked sideways to the figure of his father when a mix of feelings hit him at once. _“This is all a dream, then?”_

_“Oh, I assure you, this is very real. Apparently, you’ll remember it all when you get back into your body, since you retained your consciousness. I, on the other hand, will manage to remember only glimpses of what we’re living now, outside the confines of the flesh, if anything.”_

The sadness Nathan felt wasn’t entirely his own. He looked up and met his father’s downcast eyes. Used to finding there expressionless features, it was fascinating to see – and feel – all those emotions coming from the always heavily guarded wizard, and Nathan was readily reminded of that morning in the Hospital Wing, when he felt sorry for not being able to feel his father’s caresses on his face and hand. As if he’d spoken that aloud, fingers touched his face, brushing his hair back. 

With both hands resting on Nathan’s shoulders, Severus said, _“I’m sorry, my boy.”_

For what his father was apologizing, it wasn’t clear. Nathan let himself be absorbed by the engulfing emotions and felt his shoulders being squeezed affectionately before he was released.

_“We need to reverse the spell. You said the book from which you learned it is with one of your friends. Who was that, again?”_

_“Kevin,”_ he answered. _“The_ Anima Codex _is in Kevin’s trunk.”_

 _“I probably won’t remember much of this conversation when my body wakes up.”_ Nathan tried to interrupt and say that he could ask the ghosts to help them communicate, but his father raised a hand and continued urgently, _“This is important, Nathan, please listen. My body is coming to awareness at this very moment. It will take a few minutes until it awakes fully. It’s important that I remember at least where to look for the book, and here is what I need you to do.”_ He stood from the couch. _“Follow me,”_ he commanded and left through a closed door.

Nathan crossed the door that now he knew led to his father’s bedroom. He looked around; he’d never before thought about what Professor Snape’s bedroom looked like, and even so, he was surprised. The bed dominated the room, and the light colors of the hangings – a moss sort of green – were something Nathan wasn’t expecting from the always black-clad man. There was a soft-looking rug in a dirty sort of cream color on one side of the bed, where he found the soul of the owner of this room standing. He seemed amused, but it lasted only for a short while.

_“You’ll have time to look around later, now I need you to come over here.”_

Nathan obeyed. He approached the bed and only then took his attention from the soul to its usual bearer. The body of his father rested peacefully under a voluminous comforter, his lips were slightly open and his nose was even more prominent from this angle. 

_“I need to get back inside,”_ the soul told him. _“Do as I say. Talk to my body about where to find the book. Repeat it until I’m awake and maybe I’ll remember. Do you understand?”_

_“It’s not–”_

_“Start now, Nathan.”_

Nathan was put out by the interruption, but did as he was told and started telling his father where the book was. _“The book is in Kevin’s trunk.”_

 _“Say it as an order, Nathan.”_ His father’s soul was positioning itself over the bed. _“Tell me to look for the book with Kevin.”_

He watched with fascination as his father’s soul adjusted its lower half against the body lying there on the bed. _“Ask Kevin for the book,”_ he said. 

_“Go on,”_ the soul instructed.

 _“Ask Kevin for the book,”_ he repeated, then again and again. The soul lay over the body, disappearing completely, and Nathan came closer to the man and continued to chant, _“Ask Kevin for the book. Ask Kevin for the book.”_

A pair of black eyes snapped open so suddenly that Nathan’s breath caught in his throat in a swallowed gasp. His father looked directly at him, and for a moment, Nathan thought he could see him. This assumption soon proved wrong when his father blinked and stared at the light green hangings above him. The man took a deep breath and moved, dislodging the comforter. Nathan took a step back when his father sat on the bed, stretching his neck. When he stood, he was the strictly rigid Professor Snape that Nathan could recognize even when wearing a nightgown. 

Nathan missed his father’s freed soul already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Nathan meets the real Severus Snape. I hope you’ve enjoyed it. :0)
> 
> Thank you!
> 
>  **Coming next…** The book is found, and they work on the counter-curse.


	27. Working Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The book is found, and they work on the counter-spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW, Indigofeathers and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

Severus had slept poorly. The few hours he’d devoted to his rest were disturbed by dreams of matters that still worried him this morning. He’d dreamed of his son, and the disjointed images he could piece together didn’t leave his mind at ease. Severus was used to sleep-depriving pressure, but this was different in some way. He hadn’t been this worried since the “Potter days”.

Washed and in fresh black robes, he entered his living room and looked at the book-covered desk in the corner. Somehow he knew that going back to those texts was pointless. Scanning the room—all the books there—had the same effect. There was a weight on his mind telling him that the answer wasn’t those books. They needed something that wouldn’t be found in this room.

Maybe resorting to printed words was not the answer at all. Only….

 _The answer should be in a book somewhere_ , and that voice in his head sounded strangely like Granger’s.

When had he started listening to what the woman said? It made a strange amount of sense, though, even if it was just a strong feeling of rightness that made it so. That same feeling told him that the precise book wasn’t there. 

Where, then? The library was the obvious choice, and Severus was glad that he would disagree with that womanly voice that had suggested it in his head this time around. He had a different idea as to where: the crime scene.

The answer would be found inside Gryffindor Tower. He didn’t question why the Tower was important; he wasn’t sure he understood it himself. What he did know was that he would be questioning a pair of Gryffindors as soon as he set eyes on them.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan watched, in anxious anticipation, his father go through what he supposed were his morning rituals. The clock on the mantelpiece told him it was too early for breakfast in the Great Hall, and it also made Nathan wonder if his father was always up at such ungodly hour.

The way the man eyed the books on the desk told Nathan that this wasn’t an ordinary morning for Professor Snape. Nathan wanted to believe that his father was up this early out of worry for him, and he was succeeding. It was infinitely easier to accept that his father cared for him after the previous night’s events.

Would Professor Snape remember what passed between them? Would he find the book in Kevin’s trunk? Maybe Nathan should go after a ghost, but even the idea of walking the whole castle in search of one willing to hear him out was dispiriting. It would probably take less time to wait until breakfast and see if his father would approach his friends.

Time passed in restless silence, with Nathan observing his father and unable to keep from reliving his meeting with the man’s soul. He observed and compared the now with then, looking for signs that the caring soul was indeed inside the austere shell. On a second—or perhaps it was on a third or even a fourth look—the fog hiding Professor Snape’s feelings didn’t seem so dense. The eyes were more alive as they gazed at the fire, the gestures more human as he handled a cup of tea. Maybe it had always been this way, only Nathan had never noticed before. 

Maybe.

Images Nathan had banned from his mind, of dreams he didn’t have anymore were there, unbidden, brought back by his hopeful heart. He felt smaller, a child holding his father’s hand while they walked to the playground. A hand Nathan would no longer remember closed into fists of white rage, but lightly stroking the leather of a book cover. He could feel the touch as if it was indeed on the skin of his own hand.

Maybe.

On the space shining its emptiness in the light of the fire—never warm enough—Nathan could see himself. He would join his father to read in the evenings, and when the printed words got jumbled, Nathan would lend his heat to his father’s thighs by resting his head there. Soon the hand would be back, and Nathan could feel it already—a token of his meeting with freedom. Maybe he would relive that one day.

Maybe.

Even if the day wouldn’t be today or tomorrow, Nathan felt like waiting again. The dreams could come back, no longer forbidden, and the next time he dreamed, Nathan would know it was real and possible.

Nathan’s immediate wait ended with that promise when his father stood and reached for his black outer robes, preparing to leave his quarters. They would head for the Great Hall, and Nathan hoped his father would seek Kevin. Nathan no longer had desire or reason to stay away from material life anymore. More than ever, they needed the book.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus didn’t mean to leave so early for breakfast, but waiting uselessly in his quarters wasn’t helping to bring his son back. Idle time flooded his mind with thoughts, and the more he considered it, the more he felt sure of his resolve to look for answers in Gryffindor Tower. Lupin hadn’t looked for him the day before, and that greatly annoyed Severus. The Defense professor had surely investigated his House, Severus knew, even if he hadn’t felt obliged to enlighten him of his findings yet.

Unless Lupin had reported to Granger instead, though that was not any improvement. Because if he had, that meant Granger didn’t see fit to share the intelligence with him. Would she use knowledge as means of revenge? Severus knew she could, although the possibility of that being the case now was deemed false by her own words that she wouldn’t withhold information where Nathan’s welfare was concerned. 

Lupin was the moron, then.

Severus didn’t need their help to get the information he needed. He could very well get his own answers from the boys. He was one of the first to arrive at the Great Hall and had the whole meal to wait for his sources. Only Hagrid occupied the Head Table when he took his customary seat and scanned the still mostly empty hall.

Biding his time would have been less trying without the undesirable company of his colleagues. 

“Any change in Mr. Granger’s condition, Severus?” Minerva asked.

“Were you informed of any change?” Severus returned the question, then sipped a small mouthful from the cup of coffee he intended to make last until the Gryffindors arrived.

“A simple no would have sufficed.”

“Nothing has changed.” Before Minerva could go on with her chattering, Severus added, “And no, Poppy can’t move him to St. Mungo’s.”

“What does Hermione have to say on the matter?” Minerva asked.

“She won’t agree with the transfer, either,” Severus assured, frowning now.

“She can answer for herself, thank you,” the very subject of their conversation intervened. Granger took the seat on his other side before adding, “If we don’t find a way to wake Nathan up by the end of the day, I’ll contact St. Mungo’s myself.” 

“And risk his life in doing so. It’s a very reasonable decision, especially coming from his own mother.” He could taste his sarcastic words mingling with the bitter flavor of his coffee. 

“Have you made any progress?” 

The question unnerved him. Not only because it pointedly ignored his comment, but also because she already knew the answer. What could he have found out since they parted late last night? 

He could see that her attitude hadn’t improved much from the afternoon before. Since she’d started yelling at him for the simple reason of playing his part as Nathan’s father, Granger had been trying to wound him with what she deemed witty words at every opportunity she got. Was she blaming him for what had happened? If that was the case, she was completely mistaken. If she was looking for a scapegoat for their son’s illness, she should be blaming Lupin. That reminded him….

“Did Lupin report to you?” he asked her.

“Was he supposed to?”

“Worthless werewolf,” he cursed.

“He found me in the library when I was collecting all that useless information yesterday.” 

Severus didn’t appreciate her cheap sarcasm and let the feeling show through his eyes.

“He was very distressed by the fact of being unable to be of more help. He offered his apologies for letting Nathan come to harm when he was responsible for his protection, but I assured him that he wasn’t the only one responsible. I wouldn’t expect him to be watching Nathan all the time. There were others claiming to do so, nonetheless.”

He showed only disdain for her open accusation. Severus wouldn’t give her the pleasure of a scene in the Great Hall, but he also wouldn’t let her get away with blaming him for what had happened. 

“Gryffindors are famous for their irresponsibility,” was his comment. He made sure she understood the threat woven in his words.

She had the gall to snort. “Whatever, Severus.”

His attention was then on the students entering the hall, but from the corner of his eye, Severus could see Granger tipping her cup and taking hurried bites of whatever was on her plate. It didn’t surprise him when she stood to leave, thankfully, exactly when his potential witnesses were crossing the threshold. When he stood as well, Granger misread his intention

“I don’t need you to escort me.”

He took the pleasure in snorting before leaving her behind without a glance back on his way to the Gryffindor Table. Once there, he paused only long enough to say, “Mr. Brown and Mr. Wood, a word in my office. You have fifteen minutes.”

If any ghost had been paying attention to sleeping boys that day, it would have been witness to the huge grin that radiated enough love to be called an ethereal hug. Such a ghost might have even become curious enough to follow the trail of hope that oddly accompanied the Gryffindors into the dungeons that morning.

~o0oOo0o~

He held himself rigidly in his chair and watched the boys approach his desk with the caution that his steady gaze warranted.

“What exactly happened in that Tower?” Severus asked as soon as the Gryffindors stopped in front of him.

They looked sideways at one another, annoying Severus with their silent hesitation.

“I’m waiting,” he urged.

“I don’t know, sir,” Wood answered.

“What about you, Mr. Brown?” Severus prompted. “Do you care to tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know what happened, sir.”

The boys flinched when Severus growled. “You’ll tell me what happened, whether you want to or not, so I suggest you start talking.”

“We really don’t know, sir.” Wood’s voice took a pained tone. “When we went upstairs, Nathan was already in bed. I only found out that something was wrong in the morning.”

“Weren’t you together?” Severus wanted to know, startled that his son had been in bed earlier than his friends. Then Severus realized that he didn’t know anything about his son’s routine in the common room.

“Nathan went to bed earlier that night,” Wood, again, answered.

“Why?” Severus demanded.

Silence.

“I asked why,” Severus intoned gravely.

“He was upset, sir,” Wood, once more, answered. Brown remained silent. 

“Will I have to keep asking why, or are you going to tell me what happened before I lose my patience?”

Wood gulped; Brown remained silent, looking grave. 

“Malfoy set him up, sir,” Brown finally said. “He challenged Nathan to get inside the Restricted Section of the library, knowing that he would get in trouble if someone caught him there. The moment Nathan entered, Malfoy ran to fetch Madam Pince.”

Severus narrowed his eyes. “But no one got caught, or I’d know of this stupidity by now,” he pointed out, anger rising and making him want to yell detentions at that precise moment. How could Nathan have let himself be goaded by Devon yet again, after all the warnings he gave him—them? He felt like shaking both. Instead, he concentrated on the task at hand, glaring at the two boys he had in his presence. “What was the challenge?”

Brown fidgeted, but Wood answered, “Nathan had to bring a book, sir.”

“What book?” Severus insisted.

Wood looked at Brown as if asking for support; Brown was looking everywhere but at the two other wizards in the room. Severus knew he’d reached the heart of things.

“Where is the book?” he asked.

Brown tensed and Wood stared intently at his feet.

“Mr. Brown, I want this book here NOW!”

Both boys jumped with that last loud command.

“Move!” he barked, and they were finally compliant, leaving in rushed steps with the promise of being back right away.

Snape banged his fist on the desktop, growling to let loose some of his anger. “Stupid, brainless brats!” he cursed between gritted teeth, promising himself that Devon Malfoy would not walk out unpunished this time. 

He sighed. A book from the Restricted Section…. What was Nathan thinking? Until he saw what book it was, Severus couldn’t be sure, but he was almost certain that what was cursing his son came from it. A Dark Arts book, most probably, and Severus could only hope it was something he’d be able to reverse.

He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he couldn’t.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a sadness he usually didn’t let reign over his rage. He would probably understand the overwhelming regret taking hold of his feelings better if he could see the boy standing next to him, a hand hovering over his bowed head.

~o0oOo0o~

Andy and Kevin had come back with the _Anima Codex_ , and the detention they’d earned for hiding it in the first place—accompanied by the loss of forty House points—had not been surprising, given the twisted lips and deep frown that had met them for the handover of the book. Surprising, however, was the look of apprehension his father bestowed the Dark Arts book now that the boys were gone. Nathan’s own anxiety rose. 

For a moment, Professor Snape only stared at the book on his desk, seemingly lost in thought, and his expression made Nathan see, once again, a glimpse of the soul he knew resided inside. His father’s eyes were almost glazed, and Nathan longed to see what thoughts were passing through his mind, to understand why he felt like hugging and comforting the man beside him, reversing their roles this morning.

They were both startled by the sound of the door, opening to let his mother inside. She stopped when she saw them—no, just his father—in the room.

“I’m sorry, I assumed you would be in the classroom by now,” she apologized for the unannounced invasion.

“As I should be,” his father, back to his usual demeanor, said. He stood, gathering his things, and with them, the _Anima Codex_. When Nathan was sure Professor Snape would approach his mother with the news, he simply passed her by and exited, taking with him the only means to help her find a way to bring Nathan back.

 _“Hey!”_ Nathan protested. If he had classes to teach, Professor Snape should have left the book with his mother, at least for the morning.

His indignation did nothing to stop the scene unfolding before him, and Nathan was due for another morning outside of his body. He thought about looking for a ghost, but then gave up on the idea. What he needed was someone studying that book as soon as possible, and if Professor Snape had taken it, maybe that was what he planned to do. Leaving his unsuspecting mother with her useless tomes, Nathan headed for the Potions classroom, where hope currently resided.

~o0oOo0o~

“Five points, Mr. Riley,” Severus said. He’d assigned the quickest potion a first-year could brew, and yet the dunderheads were making every unthinkable mistake and holding him back.

He’d brought the book with him, but hadn’t dared to open it in a classroom full of students. This was the kind of text one should never take for granted. Such Dark texts should have never had reached his son’s hands. Soul magic…. This couldn’t be good.

If Severus were a lesser wizard, he would have admitted that this was worse than simply _not good_. A tampered soul…. 

Severus would not think about Dementors.

Severus would not think about the Dark Lord.

A shiver ran down his spine regardless of his will not to think of the past. He needed to get rid of the students, as he felt time was of the essence now more than before. 

“You have twenty minutes to get the potion done and get out of my sight,” he told the class, turning his back to them and starting towards his desk at the front.

“Twenty minutes? But that’s not enough!” 

Severus heard that protest and ground his teeth, spinning to meet his godson with a sneer on his face. “Five points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy,” he said without even blinking, then added, “and a detention.”

Devon’s was not the only gasp in the room. “But, Un—” 

“Another five points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy,” Severus cut the boy before he could protest any further. After what he’d found out earlier, listening to his godson’s voice without blaming him for what was happening to his son had become a challenge. Severus knew he wasn’t guilty alone, but it didn’t change the fact that he was guilty nonetheless. 

Severus should have put a stop to this stupid childish rivalry sooner. Had he known that it would have come to this, he would have. 

What was wrong with his son’s soul…?

Time seemed to slow down when it should do the opposite. Severus went back to his desk, and as soon as his stipulated time was reached, he shooed the first-years from the classroom and prepared to leave immediately after them.

“Uncle Severus.”

He growled. The boy fidgeted but stood his ground, waiting to be acknowledged. 

“What?” Severus snapped, wanting nothing more than to get rid of the bothersome delay.

“Did you really mean it when you said detention?” his godson had the temerity to ask.

“Have you ever heard me say detention and not mean it?” Severus retorted, narrowing his eyes.

“Never…” Devon said, Slytherin instinct prompting him to belatedly add, “sir.”

When Severus turned to leave again, the boy insisted, “But why?”

Severus glared from over his shoulder. “For being a selfish, spoiled brat and disobeying your godfather and, thus, putting my son’s life at risk. And now I’ve had time to reconsider, you’re in detention everyday from tonight until I see fit.” He kept his gaze on the boy’s face only long enough to see it lose all color, then turned and left.

~o0oOo0o~

If another boy, who was also in the room, could afford losing any color, he would have. Nathan gaped at the door his father had exited by, not believing his ethereal eyes and ears. Professor Snape had given Malfoy endless detentions? On his behalf, no less! A heart that couldn’t be a real one threatened to jump out of his mouth.

A loud sniffle reminded Nathan that he wasn’t alone in the classroom. He turned to see Malfoy scrubbing at his eyes with a hand, visibly to clear them of tears. Malfoy was crying.

 _“Who’s crying now?”_ he goaded, knowing the blond couldn’t hear him. _“He’s my father, not yours!”_

Nathan thought he had the right to feel elated with the sight of his nemesis crying, but he didn’t. He insisted, _“How nice is it to hear how much of a disappointment you are?”_

Again, no joy when the words were out. Nathan scowled at the sniffling boy and answered his own question: it was awful to hear that you were a disappointment. His mind took him to Harry, his godfather, and Nathan couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to hear that from him; how awful it had been to hear that from his father….

Nathan decided to leave the room before he started feeling sorry for Malfoy. That would be too much.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione was distracted from her quiet note-taking when Severus entered the laboratory. “I’m glad you’re back. We need to start some potions right away,” she told him.

“Forget it,” he answered.

Hermione gaped, frowning then at his refusal. “You listen to me, Severus. If you—” 

“His soul was tampered with,” he announced and kept those dark eyes on her.

Many questions crossed her mind in the short period of a few seconds, but none found her voice. She stared speechless at Severus until her mouth moved and uttered a low, whispered, “Soul?”

“This was in his possession.” He showed her a book. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I need my lab.”

She moved her eyes quickly from the book to Severus’ face. “Give me that book, Severus.”

“You’ll have no use for it. The Dark Arts are—”

“ _Accio book_!” Hermione said, and the book left Severus’ hand and flew to hers. Before she could open it, though, Severus had his hands on it, holding it closed.

“Have you lost the few brain cells you had?” he growled. “Release the book this instant!”

“Let go, Severus.” 

If he thought he would take that book from her, he was very mistaken. A staring match ensued, until he sighed, still holding his side of the book.

“Fine, you don’t have to leave while I examine it.”

“If you think you can work around me, you don’t know me at all.”

“Granger, you can’t simply open a Dark Arts book without examining it for curses and jinxes first, as you should know. What’s addling Nathan—What the Hell!” 

Severus let the book go, shaking his hand to dispel the ache Hermione knew he must be feeling from her nonverbal jinx. Without waiting for his offensive response—sure to follow—she opened the book. That seemed to make him stop his advance for only seconds before he tried to take the book away from her again.

“I’m still whole, Severus. I never perceived you as a coward, so stop acting like one,” she admonished him, holding the book out of his reach.

“And your vast knowledge in the Dark Arts would have assured you that nothing would happen when you opened that book, I’m sure. Stop being a child and start thinking before you act, oh _brave_ Gryffindor!” He sneered. “You’ll end up in a bed next to Nathan—or worse, you’ll take me there with you!”

Severus continued to watch her gravely, not seeming to have realized what he’d insinuated. Hermione blushed and averted her face, trying to hide her thoughts—a juvenile hope. In fact, he was right about her childish behavior, but that didn’t exempt him of his share in this argument.

“When did you find this book?” she asked, trying to change the subject back to the task at hand. “And how did you know Nathan had it?”

“Lupin has no control over his Gryffindors or any knowledge of the goings on in their tower. Nathan took the book from the Restricted Section and was with it the night this all happened. His friends were hiding this small, _insignificant_ piece of information.” Severus exuded sarcasm, and Hermione knew by now that this was a defense mechanism he used with excellence. 

Ignoring his unfounded accusations, she asked, “You said that his soul was tampered with. Do you know that for sure, or was it only a guess?” Hermione met his eyes again, implying that she would take sincerity and nothing else.

“I hope I’m wrong,” Severus said, and Hermione bit at her lower lip.

“Severus….” Hermione tried, but she simply couldn’t voice her fears, lest she made them true or had his confirmation. 

“I know,” he confirmed nonetheless, inflecting his voice in a warm way she hadn’t heard before. “I think we’ve lost too much time arguing, already. Let me work on the book, Hermione.”

 _Oh, the Slytherin bastard!_ “I think you should work on your persuasion skills instead, Severus; they’re lacking. Calling me Hermione with that sultry voice of yours won’t make me hand you the book and leave you free to hex me out of here.” She blushed again, but this time she sustained what she hoped was a resolved stance and kept staring at him. When he didn’t deny his manipulative strategy, she continued, “I think we’re perfectly capable of working on the book together. We both want Nathan well, so I don’t see why not.”

Hermione saw his eyebrows come together, then saw nothing more as she turned her back on him and walked to a workbench, placing the opened book on it. She turned the pages, looking for the table of contents, and heard him approach, feeling him stand behind her.

“It seems you’re determined to be deliberately reckless. I couldn’t care less, although you should be thinking about Nathan when you do that.” 

“He’s all I’m thinking about. You’re breaking my concentration.” It wasn’t true, she hadn’t started reading yet. Nevertheless, it made him hold his tongue, and when she finally started to read, her concentration was indeed broken by the sound of the stool rasping on the stone floor and his annoyed voice asking for space and access to the book. Hermione’s mouth quirked at the corners, but she soon sobered at the gravity of the situation. Nathan’s soul was…. She couldn’t even think of the possibilities, so she abandoned her thoughts to rationality and studied the book with Severus.

A sigh none of them could hear was voiced to the room, and a boy who was only half there climbed onto the edge of the workbench to watch his stubborn parents work together.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan paced in front of the workbench in his father’s lab. His parents had gone through half of the book, discussing many aspects of it, but not the most important aspect yet. They still didn’t know what was wrong with him, even though they had read the spell he’d used. Professor Snape had gone to the Great Hall, his mother was bent over the _Anima Codex_ , and Nathan was lost for what to do next.

He was still pacing when a shiny spot of light caught the corner of his eyes. Nathan stopped abruptly. 

_“Mum?”_

His mother turned to him at his call, and Nathan watched with odd satisfaction as she gasped and widened her eyes at the sight of him. 

_“Nathan!”_ She ran to embrace him tightly. _“Nathan, my little Nathan,”_ she murmured with her lips on the top of his head. _“You’re here. You’re really here.”_ She stepped away, moving only as far as an arm’s length to look him from feet to head, turn him around, and hug him tight again. _“In one piece, thank goodness! For one moment, I thought you might have been lost, split apart and taken from us.”_

Nathan answered the hug with as much enthusiasm, feeling her love and relief flow in gulfs of energy.

 _“But you haven’t, right? You are whole, aren’t you?”_ she asked, taking his head between her hands gently. She used her thumb to clear his cheek of the tears of happiness and relief that had escaped his eye. Nathan could only nod before being hugged tight again, never complaining. Since his unexpected meeting with his father’s soul the night before, he’d been anticipating a meeting with his mother eagerly, even staying around and hoping that his parents’ souls would feel his anxiety and would find a way to lead their bodies to rest and freedom.

 _“Why don’t you go back to your body, then?”_ his mother asked him. A lump still constricted his throat, and his voice was choked by the energy of his tears. _“Don’t you want to?”_ she insisted, and her weak tone made Nathan cling to her more firmly. _“Talk to me, honey,”_ she pleaded.

 _“Mum…”_ he started, but couldn’t go further. 

_“I’m here, sweetie. Mum is here.”_ Her arms still wrapped around him meant more than any words. Nathan closed his eyes, remembering the night before, when his father had calmed him down before he was able to speak. A hand traveled from his back towards the top of his head, where it hovered, as if outlining something. _“You’re still connected to your body. Please, come back to me, baby.”_

 _“I want to,”_ he said through his tears. 

His mother held him gently by the arms, frowning at him at eye level. _“Then why won’t you? Did that book harm you in any way?”_ she asked urgently. _“I can’t live without you, Nathan. Please….”_

 _“It’s the spell,”_ he told her. _“I can’t counter the spell.”_

The frown smoothed, and determination filled her eyes. _“Mum is here to help you, honey. Do you know what spell it was?”_

Feeling like a five-year-old and not caring, Nathan nodded and went about explaining what had happened to him. By the end of his narrative he felt like apologizing by every other sentence. 

_“I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t know how to make you listen to me. I’m sorry, Mum. I tried to explain to the ghosts, but they wouldn’t understand.”_

_“I’m sure you’ve tried,”_ she soothed him, caressing his face as she did, and then placed a kiss on his forehead, pulling him to her chest again. _“It’s going to be all right. Your father and I will help you find your way back.”_ Her quiet words and understanding calmed him more than anything else could because he believed her. Nathan knew his mother would do whatever was necessary to make everything all right again, and they had what they needed with them. 

_“You have the book now,”_ he agreed, nodding and finding some strength to shift in her arms when the door opened to watch his father enter the room. Nathan stiffened when Professor Snape approached his mother’s sleeping form. He pulled from her embrace and made to stop him. _“No! Don’t wake her up!”_

_“He won’t,”_ his mother assured him, holding Nathan by the hand. 

Nathan let his mother pull him to her again when his father took a seat, letting her sleeping body be. He sighed, comforted, closing his eyes; a light hand caressed his hair, and he enjoyed the previously denied contact. Nathan could swear her hand was warm, even though it was intangible.

They remained like that, involved in an intriguing silence. Nathan tilted his head back and found his mother watching the other in the room. Professor Snape sat across from her material form, and although he held the _Anima Codex_ open in his hands, the only reading he could be doing was of Hermione’s features.

 _“He’s trying to find me,”_ she explained.

Nathan looked up at her, confused. _“You’re right there.”_

 _“The outside that he can easily see, yes,”_ she said softly, _“but not the inside, and that’s what he’s trying to find.”_ Hermione brushed Nathan’s hair from his eyes and then looked at the professor again. _“He’s almost understanding… almost. Reason can be quite an obstacle when you’re so used to its safety. Only time can teach the ways of the whole.”_ She looked down at Nathan again. _“He’s almost understanding.”_ She smiled, kissing his forehead again. The peace Nathan felt curved his lips, even though he didn’t know why hearing those words was making him feel so. He was still smiling happily, content to forget everything else for the time being, when his mother decided to speak again.

 _“Now, it’s time to work on that counter-spell you told me about, before I wake up. I don’t know how long I’ll sleep in such an uncomfortable position.”_ His mother seemed pained to remind him that she would have to leave, and Nathan sighed. 

They tried the counter-spell in many ways and languages, with different moves and immaterial wands, but not even his mother was able to restore him to rights. _“Why isn’t it working?”_ she muttered to herself.

Nathan didn’t know, either. How could such a simple spell be so hard to counter? Frustrated, he moved away from his mother and closer to his father. Maybe he would know something they didn’t try yet. Why couldn’t he fall asleep as well?

 _“There must be something else to this spell that I’m missing,”_ his mother said, approaching Professor Snape from his other side. 

_“Can’t you make him fall asleep?”_ Nathan asked.

She extended a hand over his father’s long raven hair, and for a brief moment, Professor Snape closed his eyes and tilted his head back as if leaning into her touch. A deep sigh escaped him, exposing his tiredness and maybe his longing to be with them. Nathan added his own contribution to his mother’s efforts, or so it was what he’d intended by the hand he placed on his father’s shoulder. His mother’s smile told him he was helping.

His father’s opened eyes told him he wasn’t.

 _“I don’t think he’ll let himself go with me sleeping right there,”_ his mother explained. She stroked Professor Snape’s hair and forehead once, twice, Nathan watching the soothing movements until they stopped. He looked up and found them both looking at the sleeping form as it stirred. Nathan felt a pang in his chest, searching his mother’s soul for any sign that she was disappearing from view.

She strayed from his father and simply pulled Nathan into her arms, apologizing with the gesture and the waves of sorrow he could feel with her hug. _“We’ll find what’s wrong with the counter-spell. We won’t rest until you’re back with us.”_ She let him go, and Nathan followed her with wet eyes, watching her sit in the chair with her body, bend over, whisper, _“I love you,”_ and blend in with herself.

“Nathan!” she said, waking up startled from what could only be the nightmare of leaving him.

 _“Mum…”_ Nathan sobbed.

~o0oOo0o~

The Bloody Baron entered the laboratory and hovered nearby. The times the ghost visited Severus were only when the Slytherin House was under impending destruction. He sighed and acknowledged his presence.

“What can I do for you, Baron?”

“I bring a message from your son, Professor.”

“Nathan?” Granger asked, quickly abandoning everything she was doing and approaching the ghost. 

The Baron dispensed a sideway glance to the woman while Severus braced himself for the message—if a ghost was bringing it, could it mean…? The Bloody Baron spoke to Severus again. “He can’t wake up on his own because the counter-spell failed.” 

He couldn’t wake up. The counter-spell failed. Severus heard a strangled sob.

“What is the spell we need to counter?” he asked, trying to keep his mind as rational as possible.

“ _Anima Libertas_ ,” the ghost provided.

Severus had already read about the spell in the book. 

“We’ve read about it. It’s in that book. I know I’ve read it,” Granger babbled, rushing to the book with trembling hands and turning the pages carelessly. “Where is it? _Where_ is IT?!” 

Severus watched the despair of the woman with thoughts running through his mind. The counter-spell had failed. 

“If I had questions to my son, would you be able to deliver them and come back with answers?” Severus inquired.

“He is here,” the ghost told him.

Something floated in Severus’ stomach, and he didn’t know if the feeling was good or bad. Granger left the book again, asking urgently, “Nathan is here? Where?” 

When it seemed that the Baron wouldn’t answer, his grave voice said, “Right in front of you, madam.”

Unbidden, Severus looked at the spot in front of the woman, expecting to see his boy there, awake, but the air was empty. He looked at Granger, a hand extended ahead, obviously expecting the same, and saw a tear slide down her face. The sensation in his stomach spread to his chest, and Severus felt constricted, making him fight to remain focused and rational.

“Ask him why the counter-spell failed,” he addressed the ghost again.

“He doesn’t know why; it simply failed to work, for him and for his sleeping mother.”

“What sleeping mother?” Granger managed to ask in a weak voice.

The ghost only looked at her, clearly measuring, and then turned to Severus again. “She doesn’t remember her dreams. Your son doesn’t consider her responsible for her failure because it was agreed that you would keep looking for alternatives.”

Granger gasped, but Severus didn’t take his attention from the ghost. There was critical information in his words, and Severus had to be quick in his assessment of them. His twisted heart wouldn’t let him slow down the process; he only realized that his son could be reached in sleep, within his dreams—flashes of images crossed from subconscious to conscious. 

“Can he only be reached through dreams?” Severus wanted to know.

“He is locked in sleep.” Severus expected more, but that was all that the ghost provided. 

“I couldn’t help him.” 

The pain in her words called them to Severus’ attention. Granger stared in defeat at the spot the Baron had told them Nathan was. Her demeanor intensified the feelings in his chest, making him snap, “Get a grip, woman.” She looked at him, then, and their eyes met—his holding hers in their strength. Granger heaved in a last stinging breath, squared her shoulders and cleaned her eyes and cheeks. She wasn’t the best of sights, but she was Granger, at least. 

“How will we help him?” she asked.

“Understanding all the implications of the spell and counter-spell, listing what could have gone wrong.”

She nodded, retaking her place with the books and parchments, but not quite going back to work yet, probably still too disturbed by the surprising news the ghost, still hovering there, had brought.

“Do you have any other information for me, Baron?”

“Nothing relevant, Professor.”

“And irrelevant?” Severus thought to ask.

“Don’t fight sleep,” the ghost offered, and it was what it sounded: advice. Severus inclined his head, accepting it before joining Granger and work to help Nathan.

~o0oOo0o~

 _“Thank you,”_ Nathan said low and slowly while wiping at his eyes and cheeks in an imitation of his mother’s previous gesture.

The Bloody Baron inclined his head, politely, before floating away. It was as though Nathan’s mission had just been completed by the departure of the ghost, and he felt drained of energy, weak and tired. He walked in short steps to where his mother was and inclined his head on her shoulder, watching his father take the seat opposite them. 

Silence prevailed. His mother was staring at the book, probably lost in thought. His father pinched his nose, his eyes closed.

“Have you found the spell?” 

His mother remained silent at the quiet words of his father, moving her head up to look at him. 

“ _Anima Libertas_ ,” Professor Snape instructed her.

Nathan took his head from his mother’s shoulder when it rose and fell with the deep breath she took before reopening the book. While she turned the pages, Nathan observed his father’s face; the brows slightly furrowed in what Nathan understood as a sign of determination, the mouth set in a rigid line. The sound of flipping parchment stopped, and his mother started to read from the book, filling the room with her sorrow-etched voice, which grew faulty as the words became Darker in content. 

“It’s a simple spell.” His father’s objectivity broke the over-emotive tone of his mother. “Why isn’t the counter-spell effective?” he asked.

For long minutes, Nathan joined his mother in her silent contemplation of his father’s words.

“He’s only eleven,” his mother said.

“He’s twelve, and I don’t think that’s relevant,” his father dismissed, and the fact that he’d corrected her over his age made Nathan relax his tense expression.

“He’s a first-year, Severus. Of course it’s relevant! How do you expect him to be able to counter this spell on his own, like this sodding book says he has to? He’s only a child, and we’re talking about Dark magic, Severus. Dark magic!” She waved the book, and then released it as if burned, making Nathan take a step back and look at his father, forgetting who he was pleading with for help to comfort his mother. To his surprise, the soul surfaced in the warm expression of his eyes for only a moment, but time enough to make Nathan plead again with his own eyes.

“Granger,” the man called. His mother didn’t seem to have listened. “Hermione,” he called again, now using her given name. She focused on him. “It’s not relevant,” the man insisted. Nathan watched in anticipation his parents staring at one another, not knowing what they would do next. 

“I’m sorry,” his mother apologized, taking her seat again. Nathan sighed, relieved. 

“He’s not a fully trained wizard, but he performed the spell, so he should be able to perform the counter-spell,” Professor Snape continued.

“What I’m trying to say is that he’s a beginner in Charms. Only recently he’s learned how to Levitate objects. The fact that he performed the spell correctly once doesn’t mean he’s mastered it,” his mother insisted, and her calm took the sting Nathan felt with her lack of faith in his potential.

“Let’s find out,” his father told her, taking the discarded book and starting to the door, wand in hand.

Nathan went after his father, apprehensive, and was followed closely by his mother. “What are you going to do?” She asked what Nathan also wanted to know.

“I’ll perform the spell, what else?”

“On whom?” she asked, mirroring the urgency Nathan felt. His father stopped by the door to his office, turning to stare at them—her—making the silence fill in for the answer. 

And it did.

“No,” his mother said, putting to words what Nathan couldn’t, “you’ll not cast the spell on yourself; I won’t let you.”

Nathan watched his father, wanting him to agree, but also wanting him to perform the spell and join him. It could go awfully wrong; it could lock his father outside his body as well. It would be bad, but Nathan wouldn’t be alone anymore—his father’s soul would be with him. It was bad; Nathan was a bad, selfish boy, but he couldn’t help it. Not that he had any say in what his father would actually do, but he would be disappointed if his father yielded to his mother’s will.

“Severus…” she pleaded, probably interpreting his expression as resolve. “I…. You can’t—” 

“I do, and I will.”

“And if it doesn’t work.” His mother left his side and approached his father. “I will be without Nathan _and_ you?”

Nathan didn’t want his mother to be left alone, either. Selfishly, though, he thought she could always join them at his side of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** A conflict between the teacher and the father, and Nathan wakes up.


	28. Teaching and Learning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conflict between the teacher and the father, and Nathan wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

Severus didn’t know how to react to her obvious concern.

“We’ll work through the ghosts. I’ll be able to give you information Nathan can’t,” he said, reassuring her awkwardly.

She wrapped her arms around him before he could predict her action. Strangely, he felt supported by her gesture, increasing the discomfiture of the moment for him. Severus wanted to be wrapped in her arms—because they were hers—at the same time that he didn’t want to—because they were hers. Mercifully, sorrowfully, she stepped away. 

“Scowl as much as you want to,” she told him, and only then did he realize he’d been frowning, “it doesn’t change the fact that I care. Get used to it.” Running a hand down his arm, she grabbed the book in his hand. He didn’t let go, not even with the goose-flesh her touch aroused. “Where are we going to do this? A bed seems appropriate. Your quarters or mine?”

He pulled his hand away, trying to turn around and hide the color rising and warming his face against his will. His mouth went suddenly dry. He cleared his throat, intent on saying something to cover for his misled thoughts, when he heard an, “Oh!” Severus closed his eyes.

“Severus, I didn’t mean to—” 

_Merlin, have mercy_ , he thought. 

“Gods, this is embarrassing. Okay, no one’s quarters. The Hospital Wing has beds, Nathan is there.” 

Severus paled at the thought of his son—the boy’s soul was probably still in the room, listening to this. Words would not put this to rights, so he stalked away without a glance back.

She followed, of course, but silent, at least. Insufferable woman. If he could trust someone else to help with Nathan, he would have hexed her for… for… _touching_ him, caring for _him_. 

He came to a halt in front of the bed where his son’s body lay and forgot the woman and his feelings immediately. Watching the boy’s ashen face, the Baron’s message was vivid, the words in the book more meaningful. Severus gripped his wand with more force.

“If I’m not conscious in half an hour, find a ghost,” he told Granger.

He was sitting in a nearby bed when her voice made him shiver. “Severus…” He looked at her for the first time since their awkward embrace. “Tell him how much I love him.” He saw in the brightness of her eyes the love she felt for their son and was forced to nod.

Lying on the bed, determination moved his wand arm and Latin flowed from his lips. To his mind, his eyes had never closed, but he felt light as if sleep was taking him. Forcefully, he blinked. 

His shining boy stood framed by the much-too-solid form of the worried woman looking down at him. Nathan smiled. _“You’re here.”_

Severus turned his head to look at himself, helpless on the bed, and then back at Nathan.

 _“It’s odd, isn’t it?”_ his son observed.

It was disorienting, to say the least. Severus experienced a tumult of sensations he didn’t know the origin of. He looked down at his hands, flexing them, trying to feel the matter they were made of. He could see his fleshy legs through them.

 _“I think it’s like being a ghost or something…”_ his son provided, and Severus looked up, back into his now not-so-cheerful smile.

 _“It’s a matter more subtle than that,”_ Severus pointed out. 

The background moved, taking his attention with it. Granger passed by Nathan and approached the bed. She came too close for his liking, making him notice some energy filled with feeling. Severus left the bed just before she touched the forehead of his body and frowned down at her.

 _“We can’t feel a thing.”_ Severus looked at his son, who also watched him being assaulted by the intrusive witch. _“Do you think the counter-spell will work?”_ The question made Severus focus on why he was experiencing all that for. The hopeful eyes his boy turned on him made his chest vibrate—dread, hope, determination?

_“Show me what you’ve been doing, Mr. Granger.”_

_“It’s Nathan,”_ the boy corrected, already bypassing the bed where his own body remained immobile. With the energetic equivalent of a wand in hand, his son intoned the counter-spell.

Severus frowned. _“Again.”_

Nathan repeated the motions and words to the same result: nothing. Severus couldn’t see where there was flaw, so perfectly his boy was performing the spell.

_“Again.”_

Flawless.

_“Again.”_

Nathan sighed in annoyance, but performed the spell once more, as perfectly as before. Without being asked, Nathan did it again. _“Can’t you see that it’s not working?!”_ And angrily, his son repeated the spell and muttered curses as it failed and failed and failed….

 _“Mr. Granger,”_ Severus called, trying to break him from the trance he seemed to be caught in. _“Mr. Granger.”_ And on the third call….

 _“It’s_ Nathan _!”_ the boy yelled, trembling, on the verge of breaking down. _“It’s Nathan,”_ he mewled, taking steps back from the bed and into a corner, where he slid down, hugging his knees. 

Sorrow radiated from Severus, unable to be contained by layers he didn’t have with him at the moment. His son was so tiny…. His mind was too quick to remind him of Granger’s words… Nathan was only a child, a first-year…. 

Nathan….

 _“Nathan,”_ Severus started, approaching the ball of light that was his son’s soul.

 _“You can't help me, either, can you? We'll stay like this forever, until we die, and then we'll be ghosts, because we're leaving this unfinished business.”_ His son looked up at him with pleading eyes. _“I don't want to be a ghost.”_

He was scared. Severus tried casting the counter-spell on him and only stared when it had no effect on his boy. He did nothing else—could do nothing else but stare. A strange vibration was urging him to do more, but he couldn't let himself move any closer. _“We're not giving up,”_ he managed, hoping the urge would diminish.

Nathan waved in the direction of his body on the bed. _“It doesn't work.”_

_“Until I find out why.”_

The boy went quiet, and Severus followed his eyes to where Granger tenderly caressed Nathan's face. Severus could recognize apprehension in her eyes, but he doubted that the boy was looking at her and seeing the same, so he was surprised when Nathan said, _“She's worried.”_

 _“Yes,”_ he agreed. 

_“So are you,”_ the boy added.

 _“That should be obvious,”_ Severus stated defensively.

Nathan looked at him, and Severus felt it deeply, as if his son's eyes shone directly at his core, seeing all. The boy stood, composing himself as best as he could, and asked, _“How do we find out?”_ Severus knew he'd changed the subject back to the spell by the determination in his voice.

 _“First, I need to try it myself. If I'm successful, we'll work from there.”_ The very moment Severus said that, he felt something heavy hit him, but knew it couldn't be anything material. Nathan was looking intently at him. _“I'll come back for you,”_ Severus told him, uncertain why he was doing so. The pressure alleviated a fraction, and then changed to a different kind of pressure when Nathan approached. 

_“Promise,”_ the boy asked.

 _“I'm a man of my word, Nathan,”_ Severus assured.

 _“Then promise you won't leave me here alone,”_ his son insisted.

 _“I won't,”_ Severus promised.

The boy hesitated before nodding. The pang in Severus' chest changed once more, and now he knew it was coming from the inside. Was this what it felt like for a father to care for his child? This mixture of pain and reluctance; this desperate need to make all wrong right so that his little boy wouldn't suffer? It made him want to touch Nathan, although he wouldn't. Somehow, he understood that touching soul to soul would make things even more confusing and complicated. He glanced at the bed they were by, watching the pale face instead of the shining one, and the hand that came and went from his limited view. Was this what Granger felt for Nathan? An urge to comfort and protect greater than... 

Everything? Has he felt something stronger than what he felt for his boy?

 

 _“She loves you.”_ And so did he?

 _“She does.”_ The boy's voice saved him from his thoughts. They locked eyes. 

_“I'll be back for you, Nathan.”_

_“Do you—”_

“What is going on here?” Madam Pomfrey entered the ward, demanding control of her jurisdiction.

Severus groaned.

 _“She'll want to send you to St. Mungo's, too,”_ Nathan deduced.

Severus glanced at the boy.

 _“Mum won't let her,”_ Nathan added vehemently.

“We're working on the counter-spell,” Granger told Poppy.

“How? By cursing everybody else in the castle?” Poppy frowned indignantly, waving her wand at Severus' body. When a faded blue brightened his pale face, the mediwitch turned on Granger with an ugly glare. “You.... That's it! I'm Flooing St. Mungo's _right now_!”

“Oh, no, you're not!” Granger said, obstructing Poppy's way to the fireplace. To the room at large, she said, “Severus, if you can hear me, do something!”

 _“Try to go back,”_ Nathan urged him, anxious to help the mother.

“Severus!” Granger cried when Poppy trained her wand at her.

 _“Oh, for Merlin's sake,”_ he cursed before trying the counter-spell that would—hopefully—send him back into his body.

And he blinked.

With his own flesh and blood dark eyes.

“No one's Flooing anywhere,” he rasped.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan gasped when his father was sucked back into his body. 

It worked. The counter-spell worked.

Nathan watched his father sit and talk, paying little attention to where and what, mesmerized and, at the same time, disappointed that his father had succeeded on his first attempt while he still remained sadly bodiless. 

Sadly.

~o0oOo0o~

“Thank goodness,” Hermione sighed when she heard Severus' voice. She walked fast to his bedside, leaving Madam Pomfrey to follow if she wanted to. “How do you feel? Is everything okay? Did you bring Nathan with you?” As she asked that, she almost knocked the mediwitch down on her haste to get to her son’s bed. 

He wasn’t awake.

Hermione turned, expecting Severus to explain.

“The counter-spell works,” he told her, massaging his temple with a hand and waving the mediwitch’s attention away with the other. 

“Let me check on you, stubborn wizard!” Madam Pomfrey insisted, using her wand on Severus again. 

The fact that he was stating the obvious made Hermione want to tend to him herself, but how could she let Nathan’s hand go, especially not knowing yet why he wasn’t awake? 

She waited.

Severus looked at her. His eyes focused, and he probably saw how worried she was. “I can’t perform the counter-spell on him, as we’d already surmised by the information we had. He’s perfectly capable of performing the spell, though; I watched him try several times.” He glanced at the mediwitch. 

Hermione knew he wasn’t comfortable discussing this with others around, but she had to know. “Why isn’t it working, then?”

Severus’ eyebrows moved a little closer to one another, and Hermione’s heart constricted in her chest: he didn’t know why the counter-spell wasn’t working.

“How did you talk to Mr. Granger?” Madam Pomfrey intruded into the parents’ silent conversation. “What counter-spell are you attempting?”

Giving more space for Severus to concentrate on a solution, Hermione thought it better to answer the questions herself. “Nathan cursed himself using a spell we have identified a few hours ago named _Anima Libertas_. His soul is somehow detached from his body and can communicate only through the ghosts. Severus could talk to him when under the same spell.” She finished and addressed him again, her voice less clinical, more affectionate. “How is he, Severus?”

“Fine, given the circumstances.”

Hermione didn’t like that answer. In fact, she didn’t like it _at all_. What would she do to help her baby? Why wasn’t the spell working, damn it! She needed her boy back; she needed him to squeeze her hand in response, to open those beetle eyes and look at her, to smile at her and— 

“Hermione.”

She heard her name in Severus’ voice and only then realized she’d not been listening to the sounds of the ward before. She also realized that she’d been biting hard at her lower lip.

“We need to help him, Severus. Why do you think the counter-spell is not working?” she asked him, comforted by his proximity now that he was standing next to her.

“Some knowledge he doesn’t have is getting in the way.” He paused in his explanation, so she took her eyes from Nathan to Severus. “You were right when you said that his age was relevant. He’s only a beginner in Charms.” He turned from her and the bed where Nathan was. The comfort was gone.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I promised I’d be back.” 

“Your magical level is depleted,” the mediwitch admonished, reminding them of her presence. “You’re not performing this unknown charm again.”

He glared at the matron, but Hermione knew that Madam Pomfrey was right in her worry. Hermione had no other option, then. “I’m going instead.”

“No!” both said at the same time. Severus frowned and added, “You need to be here for when he awakes.”

Her hand was still holding her son’s, and her resolve deflated. “We can’t just sit here, doing nothing!” she protested childishly.

“And we won’t,” Severus guaranteed, and before Madam Pomfrey could object, he was already unconscious in bed.

Hermione sighed.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus watched his son’s soul move his mouth, but couldn’t hear what he was saying, making himself shake his head to clear it from the fogginess.

 _“…and you’re shining differently, sir. Are you all right?”_ Severus heard what Nathan was asking at last, the boy eyeing him with big, concerned eyes.

 _“I’m fine,”_ he felt obliged to say, although he knew quite well he wasn’t in the best of shape. _“Poppy was only trying to take control of a situation she has no business with, as always. It’s not up to her to know what I can or cannot do with my magic.”_ Severus was already feeling better, he thought. He squared his shoulders. 

_“You only slept for a little while last night, and it’s night again already.”_

The insinuation that he might be overly tired made Severus instantly want to admonish the boy and say that he had no business on whether he slept or not, but something made him hold his tongue; it was that strange vibration again. _“You don’t need to worry.”_ Only after saying those words of reassurance did Severus recognize Nathan’s feelings.

 _“I don’t want you to—”_ Nathan was saying, but….

 _“Do you feel any different?”_ Severus interrupted, as much to stop this train of conversation as out of a new-born worry. Perhaps his son was experiencing the same discomforts. 

The boy shook his head no, and the silence could be heard and felt. Severus looked around, noticing then that the witches were quietly standing vigil beside their beds.

 _“What do you think I’m doing wrong?”_ Nathan asked. Severus couldn’t face the boy, least of all admit that he didn’t know what Nathan was doing wrong. After some moments, he heard Nathan sigh; his son was no fool.

 _“I’m here to find out,”_ Severus tried to reassure the boy. _“I need you to tell me how you’re performing the spell, explain how you’re doing it.”_

 _“Again, I’m doing exactly what that stupid book says!”_ He threw his arms in the air, visibly frustrated.

Severus sighed then, needing patience. _“But how did you interpret what exactly is on the stupid book?”_ His choice of Nathan’s own words seemed to embarrass the boy. 

_“I do the wand motion,”_ he said quietly, cooperating and moving the imprint of his wand just like the book instructed. _“Then I say the incantation.”_ Nathan said the Latin words clearly. _“And then nothing happens,”_ he added in a dry tone of voice and a grave expression. 

Severus had seen that same demeanor of dissatisfaction on Nathan’s face before, now he remembered. It had been the last time Nathan had visited his quarters, when he’d been trying to Levitate a cup of tea using a non-verbal spell, failing and stomping angrily from the room. Severus rubbed his eyes tiredly as he realized that they were dealing with the same problem now: a non-verbal spell. _“You wouldn’t know.”_

 _“I can see that it’s not working, sir,”_ Nathan said moodily, and Severus became conscious that he’d voiced his thought.

 _“It’s a non-verbal spell,”_ he elaborated.

Nathan frowned. _“I shouldn’t be saying the incantation aloud?”_ He immediately tried the spell again, now silently. It didn’t work, of course.

 _“It’s not only a matter of speaking or not speaking the incantation.”_ Severus knew of his son’s capabilities, but was also very aware of his inexperience with magic. His skills were far from those of a sixth-year. That was how a simple-looking spell became complicated.

 _“So…”_ Nathan hesitated, frowning at himself, _“you were not making fun of me when you asked me to Levitate a cup without saying the incantation that other day.”_

Severus was disarmed by that statement. That his son thought he had asked something just to humiliate him, when his intentions had been the opposite, showed clearly how inept he was at fatherhood.

 _“I was not,”_ he admitted awkwardly. _“You show great control of your magical abilities, especially for charms, and I thought you’d be able to perform a non-verbal spell if you tried.”_

 _“I’m not,”_ Nathan countered, still frowning at himself, head bowed.

 _“I still think you are,”_ Severus assured him, hiding the insecurity behind his calm demeanor. 

The boy raised his head to look up at him. _“Professor Snape,”_ he started, the title sounding odd to Severus’ ears in this circumstance, _“I tried to Levitate that cup really hard, but I couldn’t. I can’t make the spell work if I’m not saying the incantation.”_

_“I’ll teach you.”_

A pained expression took Nathan’s face—a show of his lack of faith in Severus’ teaching methods. Deciding to ignore the boy’s disrespect, Severus started to lecture: 

_“It’s a matter of concentration and mind power. I don’t believe that’s what you’ll find difficult about non-verbal spells, though, as much as what to concentrate on and apply your mind power to. Spells have many layers that turn a few chosen words and wand movements into magical acts with deliberate ends.”_ Severus paused to let Nathan take that in. _“What do you think when you Levitate an object?”_

Nathan frowned—an improvement on his expression of disbelief—and answered arrogantly, _“On saying the incantation right and moving the wand correctly.”_

 _“Is that all?”_ Severus insisted.

 _“Yes,”_ Nathan answered, his expression clearing reluctantly.

 _“Then every time you switch and flick your wand and say_ Wingardium Leviosa _an object—any object—flies in the air unbidden, is that it?”_

 _“Not any object, but the one you’re aiming your wand at,”_ Nathan corrected.

_“That would be true for a Levitating spell, perhaps, because we can often see what we’re Levitating. When we don’t have a delimitated subject to aim our wands at, or when the target has a life of its own, the level of expertise of the caster must be higher to accommodate to those new variables. The same happens in Transfiguration of living creatures and Charmed Potions.”_

Nathan was looking intently at him, and Severus knew he was working to take all this information in.

 _“Souls,”_ Severus went on, _“are both living and not-solid subjects. Aiming your wand at yourself, flicking it correctly and saying an incantation aren’t a guarantee of success.”_ He paused again, giving Nathan time to follow his reasoning before asking, _“What was on your mind when you made the cup you were Levitating move in the air without looking at it?”_

 _“I….”_ Nathan tilted his head, hopefully trying to remember exactly what passed that evening. Severus understood that his son didn’t know the theory behind what he’d done, but theory could wait until third-year. What he needed was Nathan’s natural abilities in Charms to help him understand what was needed to send his soul back into his body. _“I just asked the cup to move and hoped it would do as I asked.”_

 _Clever boy_ , Severus thought with pride. 

_“Working non-verbal spells asks for a similar level of concentration. Only, in addition to imagining your soul reattaching itself to your body, you need to make the words of the incantation be felt and carried as well, just by thinking of them.”_

Nathan frowned. Severus could feel his unease at the words.

 _“I don’t expect you to succeed in your first attempt, Nathan,”_ he told his worried son, understanding too well that the fear of failure had to be taken from the equation. Severus was also a perfectionist. _“Go ahead,”_ he encouraged.

Nathan squared his shoulders, concentrating on the difficult task before him. He flicked his wand in silence. His soul remained where it stood, bodiless. He sighed.

 _“Try again,”_ Severus asked. 

And several attempts followed that second one. Severus knew it would take more than the time of a Hogwarts normal class for Nathan to accomplish the counter-spell. 

_“Close your eyes and concentrate,”_ Severus instructed when he could feel Nathan’s frustration rise.

“What’s taking Severus so long?” Granger murmured. 

“You’re playing with dangerous magic,” Poppy answered. “I shouldn’t have let him cast that spell on himself.”

“Nathan needs help,” Granger countered visibly annoyed.

“St. Mungo’s has specialized help for such occasions. I thought that you, of all people, would see reason, Ms. Granger. What if we lose Severus as well just because of your stubbornness?”

“We haven’t lost anyone!” Granger said indignantly.

Severus sighed.

 _“I can’t concentrate with all this noise!”_ Nathan growled.

“Why are they still unconscious, then? If we had sent Mr. Granger to St. Mungo’s when I advised, I’m sure everything would be just fine,” the mediwitch insisted on the argument.

“As if there was anyone better than Severus to help Nathan right now…. Really, Madam Pomfrey, I wouldn’t expect you to doubt a most talented wizard as Severus in a matter like this.” 

The quarrel was increasing in volume and heat, and so was Severus’ interest. They had obviously forgotten that he could still hear them speaking of him.

“Severus is not a trained Healer!”

“No, but his experience fighting the Dark Arts is greater than that of any full-trained Healer. If there is someone who can help my son, it’s Severus!”

 _“Shut up!”_ Nathan yelled, hiding his ears with his shiny hands. Severus guiltily turned his attention back to his boy. _“Make them stop!”_ Nathan pleaded with him.

Severus flicked his wand, and his words could be heard by all in the room again. “Stop arguing.” Well, barely, since they were low with weakness. 

Nonetheless, the witches went silent and now circled his bed, Granger arriving last, no doubt having checked Nathan before coming to check on him.

“How’s he?” she asked.

“He can’t concentrate on the spell with you bickering like children!” he admonished—Granger seemed regretful and pained with his words.

“How are you feeling?” she surprised him by asking in a whisper.

“He’s even weaker than before, that’s how,” the annoyed mediwitch answered in his stead. Severus attempted to sit up on the bed and prove her wrong, but frowned when a little push from Poppy kept him in place—lying on the white pillow. “Stay where you are, stubborn wizard,” she told him under her breath. 

“I’ll take some minutes to recover—”

“No, no! No more spells from you tonight, mister!” Poppy interrupted him. “You wouldn’t be able to come back a third time, oh no. Your magical level is as low as your physical energy, Severus. Don’t even argue!”

“She’s right, Severus,” Granger agreed with a sorrowful voice. “Did you have the time to instruct Nathan? Maybe I should go—” 

“No,” Severus denied her, unsure of why it was so important for him that she stay out of it. “He knows what to do. I’ll rest a few minutes, drink Pepper-Up and go back to him. He might wake up anytime now, it’s just a matter of time.” He wanted to sit up—being watched from above by those apprehensive, wide brown eyes made him feel vulnerable. 

“Stay put, Severus,” Poppy admonished. “You’re getting nowhere near Pepper-Up Potion. What you need is a night of restorative sleep.”

He growled, but had little energy left to protest beyond that. 

“Sleep, Severus,” Granger told him in a tone of voice that caressed and put to rest his resolve to disagree. “I’ll keep vigil.” He didn’t think his sandy eyes would manage to disagree, either.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan had his eyes closed in concentration. He was supposed to be concentrating. On what? He wasn’t sure he knew anymore, but he kept trying, anyway. He had to get back to his life, into his body.

 _“Take a break, Nathan,”_ he heard from behind him. Nathan didn’t open his eyes nor stop his wand from moving. So a hand rested on his shoulder. _“That’s quite enough, son.”_

He did open his eyes to that. Lowering his wand, he looked up into his father’s face and knew that the man standing there wasn’t the same as earlier. 

Professor Snape smiled. _“Come,”_ the man tugged, wrapping his shoulders into a half hug, _“let’s take a walk.”_

Nathan looked at his silent mother and at the bodies she overlooked.

 _“She’ll be fine,”_ Professor Snape assured him. _“Come walk with me.”_

They left the Hospital Wing and went through the deserted corridors of Hogwarts in silence. Nathan had no idea to where the professor was taking him, but that was of little importance at the moment—feeling safe and cared for was what mattered. The arm around him didn’t slide away until they reached a wooden door.

His father went through first. Nathan followed right behind. They climbed the steep stairs a step after the other, until Nathan felt the wind hit him. Yes, he could actually feel the wind blowing on the top of the Astronomy Tower.

_“We both need our energies recharged. Can you feel the wind?”_

Nathan nodded, still marveled at how good it was to feel the force of the air going through him. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes, but he didn’t open them when he finally did.

 _“Open your arms, let nature harmonize your soul,”_ his father was saying, and Nathan obeyed, opening his arms wide and smiling happily at the sensation of belonging.

After what seemed forever and yet not any time at all, Nathan slowly opened his eyes, finding that strange Professor Snape looking intently back at him.

_“How do you feel?”_

_“Much better, thanks.”_ Nathan answered the smile he received. 

The man turned to contemplate the forest. Nathan went to stand by his side, watching the grounds as well. A hand patted him on the head, warming his entire soul, but Nathan’s mind could only be kept away from the counter-spell for so long….

 _“Professor Snape,”_ he addressed, looking up when no response came. His father was frowning at the moon before looking down at him, still frowning. Nathan forgot what he was going to say, distracted by thoughts of what might have displeased the man.

_“Can’t you call me something else?”_

The question threw Nathan off balance. _“I thought…. I….”_

_“I call you Nathan, don’t I? Maybe you could call me Severus.”_

It was Nathan’s time to frown. 

_“What do you call your mother?”_

_“Well… I…”_ Nathan felt uncomfortable with the question. _“Mum,”_ he finally answered.

_“And how would you call your father?”_

_“I….”_ Professor Snape couldn’t be asking that he…. Nathan closed his eyes, not knowing if he could—if he should….

 _“In your dreams,”_ the warming voice encouraged him. 

Feeling like he was falling from the high tower, Nathan uttered in a strangled whisper, _“Dad.”_

His father's hand brought his head to his chest in a gesture that seemed too much like a reward, and Nathan's whole soul shivered when he felt the lips brush his forehead. _"I have missed you, son,"_ they whispered, and it was like the wind had been bathed in the summer sun. 

And short hours were spent in living dream: Nathan having the dad he’d always wanted, enjoying every minute of what he was sure to be a unique opportunity. They talked about serious and silly things as if they did that on a daily basis. They joked and laughed as if the sound wasn't foreign to their ears. It was offered, and Nathan took it, and the memory would be engraved into his soul and cherished for eternity.

Every step back to the Hospital Wing was heavier than the previous, as if he were walking from clouds to painful, pointy stones. A hand came to smooth the lines curving his frowning face.

 _"It's almost over, son. The counter-spell will work and you'll go back to your normal life,"_ his dad assured him, most likely oblivious to what was etching Nathan's forehead with lines.

Nathan opened his mouth to try to explain, but was cut short, engulfed in a tight hug two steps into the infirmary ward.

 _"Where have you been?"_ his mother inquired. 

_"I took him for a walk; he needed some fresh air,"_ his dad answered for him.

 _"You left me worried,"_ she told the man. _"I couldn't leave the ward in such light sleep."_ Loosening the embrace, his mother held his face between her hands, critically analyzing his features. _“You’re overworking,”_ she told him. _“A new brand of magic takes time to assimilate. Try to rest between attempts, okay?”_ Then addressing his dad, she said, _“Thank you.”_

 _“There’s no need for that, Hermione,”_ the man dismissed. _“I have missed spending time with Nathan.”_

Nathan missed spending time with his dad as well, even though it had been a sole night for him. 

Movement caught Nathan’s eyes. _“You’re waking up, Dad.”_ It sounded as a lament. 

His mother unlocked her eyes from his father’s and glanced at the bed; the man stirred again. 

_“You’re making progress, Hermione.”_

Nathan knew nothing about the progress the man spoke of. His father’s intense gaze spoke words that weren’t for him to comprehend. To him, his dad said, _“Listen to what your mother says and try to remember to steady your thoughts every time you attempt the spell.”_

 _“I’ll try,”_ Nathan accepted the last minute advice. 

_“I’ll probably wake up when your father does,”_ his mother added. _“Know that I’m really proud of you, honey. I’ll be there for when you wake up.”_ She kissed his forehead. _“Don’t overexert yourself into magical depletion,”_ she warned.

 _“I won’t, Mum.”_ When he finally turned, looking for his dad’s reassurance, Nathan couldn’t find him. Glancing at the bed, he saw Professor Snape blinking sleepily at the ceiling. _“He’s gone,”_ he sighed. Receiving no answer, he looked over his shoulder and there was no one there, either. 

“How do you feel, Severus?”

“I’m perfectly fine. Letting me sleep was a waste of time.”

Nathan closed his eyes, wanting to disappear as well.

~o0oOo0o~

Under Severus’ watchful eyes, Nathan tried the counter-spell again. Severus hadn’t waited for Poppy’s approval to join his son outside the material world. Less than two hours into the new morning, and Nathan was closer to a successful attempt than Severus had predicted he would be; the boy must have practiced during the hours he slept. He was also wisely taking prolonged breaks between attempts.

 _“Can you feel your mind free?”_ he asked. Nathan—eyes closed—nodded, concentrated. _“Think about the reunion of body and soul,”_ he instructed; another nod. _“Turn might into the incantation.”_ Severus waited, observing. _“On three. One… two… three.”_

Severus stared at the clear space before him. He turned, looking around the ward. 

“Did it work?”

He heard the question followed by a fit of coughs and knew it had. Relief flooded all that he was made of, accompanying the rhythm of Granger’s sobs. Severus closed his eyes, ready to perform the counter-spell himself. 

Disoriented, he blinked twice, turning his face to the commotion on the bed at his left. Fighting nausea, he stood by the bed, waiting for his blurred vision to clear before taking a step towards his son. 

He watched Granger release him, Poppy’s diagnostic spells hover over the bed, and finally, the pale face of his son, eyes alight and a grin on his lips. The boy’s eyes found his, and the grin wavered. Granger stepped aside to see what had caused such reaction, and before Severus could step away from the family reunion, Nathan flung his arms around him, exclaiming a strangled, “Dad!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nathan is awake! Yay! Now… what did he call Professor Snape? Was it Dad? *lol* Well, well, well! What do you all think of this? Is Nathan in trouble or is Severus? I’d love to hear from you all. :0)
> 
> I need to thank GinnyW for questioning me about this moment in the story; she’s truly a wonderful beta. I must thank Annie Talbot, and not only for filling in as a beta, but for holding my hand through the months that took me to write these last chapters. *hugs* 
> 
> **Coming next…** The repercussions of the D word, and the adaptation of Nathan outside dreamland.


	29. No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repercussions of the D word, and the adaptation of Nathan outside dreamland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

“Dad!”

The tiny word reached Severus’ ears, traveled through his brain, but found home only when it met his heart, which skipped a beat. The stiffness of his stance was at odds with his hands on his son's head and back—a move brought not only by reflex to the boy's arms around him….

Severus remembered that it was important to breathe.

“I made it work, Dad.”

Severus had to close his eyes this time for at least a brief moment. He heard the gasp from Hermione beside him, felt the strange constriction in his chest. _Breathe, old man._

Peeling the arms from around him, Severus took his son by the shoulders. The shining smile, even brighter than those pleased eyes, was for him and no one else. It made Severus almost forget where they were, who was there with them, and what he should be doing. “Rest now,” he instructed, leading his boy back to the pillow. 

“But I just woke up!” Nathan protested.

“You weren’t sleeping,” Severus insisted, an urgency growing within him. It became almost unbearable when she—Hermione—leaned over Nathan to brush his hair away from his forehead and placed a hand between Severus’ shoulder blades, trapping him there.

“I only just woke up, Mum.” The protest was more a whine now.

Still unable to flee, Severus was obliged to feel through the burning weight of her hand the shakiness of the deep breath she took.

“Listen to your father, honey. Go to sleep; rest now.” 

He couldn’t just stay there any longer. Severus backed from the bed, forcing her hand to leave him in a burning path of a thunderbolt, hoping that the distance would turn thunderstorm into calm winter sky. _Breathe slowly_. His features were already regaining their frosty stance.

Granger whispered reassurances to Nathan, Poppy came back bearing potions, and the back of his legs reached the adjoining bed. 

_Dad_.

Simply remembering how the word had sounded like a gust of wind blowing against dark clouds, disturbing his still winter sky. He wasn’t distant enough; he wasn’t alone enough. Poppy was glancing at him while Hermione whispered something over Nathan at her. He looked at his son’s face, confirming that he’d fallen asleep, naturally this time.

“I’ll brew a new batch,” Severus told them seemingly out of nowhere, realizing that he’d been actually listening to their conversation—Pepper-Up Potion for his son. 

He took his leave immediately, walking fast, stopping only when he’d crossed the low threshold of door to his dungeon quarters. Severus fell heavily on the couch, holding his head in his hands.

Why pretend that there would be physical distance enough to erase what hearing his son calling him Dad did to his heart, still aching from the blow? Admitting defeat, he took the flat vial from his pocket and caressed its smooth surface with a thumb. Its soft greenish-blue content warmed him, melting the rest of his feeble winter. 

“Yes, you made it work, Son.” Closing his hand around the vial, he wished, “Sweet dreams, my boy.”

~o0oOo0o~

He poured the red liquid into small vials and didn’t take his eyes from his task when the door opened, echoing footsteps coming closer and then stopping.

Severus filled another vial.

“I’m leaving tonight.”

He used the ladle to gather as much of the remaining potion as possible; there was one last vial to be filled. 

One that should have been on the workbench to the left of the cauldron, but wasn’t. Severus looked around the table, searching. He was finally forced to lift his eyes and look at her, and there it was, dangling from her hand. Hermione offered the vial and a smile to him.

“I wanted to thank you, Severus,” she told him, looking straight into his eyes.

He took the vial from her hand, going through the motions of pouring the Pepper-Up Potion in it. “Stop thanking me for everything I do.”

“I must thank you whenever you do something wonderful such as saving our son’s soul. You should be used to it by now,” she told him matter-of-factly, over the sound of the ladle gently hitting the glass bottle and then the empty cauldron. He could feel her smile even before he saw it clinging to her face. She was leaning against the edge of the workbench, looking smugly at him, and he didn’t have time to stop her from adding a playful, “Dad.”

He snorted, and it was a strange noise even for him. What did she expect to achieve with that? Hermione tilted her head, studying him, it seemed. Severus took the dirty cauldron to be washed, hoping that ignoring her would act as a dismissal. They had nothing to discuss.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you while you were unconscious, but I have this feeling that this simple _thank you_ isn’t enough for all you’ve accomplished.”

He frowned at the cauldron filling with water, waiting to know what she would say next.

“Congratulations, Severus.”

He sighed gravely, turning accusingly on her to….

“Don’t even start,” she anticipated. “We’re clearly past that, now, you have to agree. Just…” She smiled fondly, approaching him. “…enjoy it.” 

Severus froze in lack of attitude for only a short moment. “Oh, I’ll enjoy the detentions he’ll serve me.” He resorted to sarcasm to compose himself.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn’t seem put out. “I’m sure his ears are still stinging from the lecture I put him through when he finally woke up. I still can’t believe he cursed himself like that. What was he thinking?”

“He clearly wasn’t.”

“I believe things have changed, though. Whatever made him do it, it’s sorted out now. He seemed content to be back; he was all hugs and smiles, and you’re finally Dad.”

Ignoring the reminder, Severus commented, “He has a problem with my godson.” Maybe Hermione would be able to force some sense into Nathan’s thick head.

“You’re a godfather?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, the tone of surprise,” he mocked.

“I… It’s surprising, yes. Nathan never commented on that.”

Well, _he_ was not surprised. Severus savored the tension his silence brought; he knew that she wanted to ask, he could feel her barely held curiosity. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times. “If you’re leaving, goodbye,” he finally said, enjoying the way her mouth decided on open.

She recovered too soon and frowned in indignation. “Who’s your godson?”

“Devon Malfoy,” he answered nonchalantly, organizing the vials in a box for transportation while enjoying the sound of her gasp.

“Malfoy?!” 

“It’s not an eleven-year secret,” he jibed. It wasn’t as satisfying as if she had actually been paying attention to it, and her wide, unseeing eyes told him that she clearly wasn’t.

“That explains a lot. All the fights, the detentions, the hateful words…” She finally looked at him again. “You should have told me.”

Her indignation annoyed him. “Let’s not go back to what should have been told, Granger. You cannot win that argument.”

To his disappointment, she only sighed. Disappointment…. He felt irritated when he analyzed his own reaction to not getting a rise from her in response to his remarks. Disappointed in what? As if teasing her was something he did for fun.

“I’ll talk to him about Malfoy,” she told him, and then patently held her tongue, but didn’t leave. She sighed again, giving up and asking anyway, “Is there something I should know before I talk to Nathan about this?”

“Detention will be tomorrow at seven.” _Now leave, Granger_ , he thought, but didn’t say.

She rolled her eyes. He gathered the box of potion vials and walked to the exit. If she wouldn’t leave, he would. 

She stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” she questioned. He looked at her, at her anxious eyes—there he saw her knowledge that Devon would be sharing that detention with Nathan. “Severus, what are your plans?”

“To take these potions to Poppy.” He gave the hand on his arm a pointed look. “If you’ll excuse me.” When he made to leave again, she squeezed his arm. 

He stared her in the eyes. “Mr. Malfoy is in for at least a week's worth of detentions for the stupid prank in the library. All involved will be disciplined, including Wood, Brown and your little Granger,” he explained.

“What do you expect to achieve by joining them like this after what happened?” she insisted.

“I expect them to act as civilized young wizards. It can’t be asking too much, especially with the punishment to remind them to stop being stupid dunderheads!” He hoped his vehemence would show the woman that the brats’ punishment was not negotiable.

She hesitated before releasing his arm. He left at once, hoping that Hermione would be gone from the castle earlier than tonight.

~o0oOo0o~

“He’ll have to take a dose of Pepper-Up Potion every day for another three days, but that’s only a precautionary measure. He’s recovering quickly.” 

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione said. “You’ve been really understanding throughout these days, and I feel the need to apologize—”

“It’s all right, dear,” the mediwitch assured Hermione, patting her on the arm. “Why don’t you take him to his common room?” She gestured with her head to where Nathan sat on the bed, dangling his legs in a clear show of impatience. “I’m sure he’s ready.”

Hermione smiled at the matron. “Thank you.” She walked to Nathan then, her thoughts going back to what Severus had revealed to her. 

“Madam Pomfrey says you can leave the Hospital Wing.” Nathan jumped from the bed. “Not so fast!” Hermione stopped him. “I’d like to talk to you for a moment.” 

His shoulders sagged, probably expecting another lecture, she presumed. Well, he was almost right in that.

“I’ve spoken to your father earlier about your problems with his _godson_ ,” she told him, emphasizing her new knowledge of who Devon Malfoy really was, and waited.

“What about it?” Nathan mumbled in answer, obviously uncomfortable with her choice of subject.

“Is this why you go out of your way to get both of you in trouble? Because he’s your father’s godson?”

“I don’t go out of my way to get myself in trouble,” was his answer.

“Nathan…” she warned him. Holding on to childish grudges was never healthy.

“He was mean and disrespectful to me before I even knew that Professor Snape was my father, okay? He’s the one always getting me in trouble.” He crossed his arms petulantly over his chest.

“Watch your tone,” Hermione chided him mildly, thinking about how to better approach the subject. “You realize that, with him being your father’s godson, you’ll have to find a way to get along, don’t you?” Nathan didn’t give any indication that he would answer, so she asked again, “Don’t you, Nathan?”

“He hated me first.”

“And now you hate him back, is that what you’re telling me?”

Nathan finally looked up at her. He bit his lower lip, obviously thinking of how to get away with saying ‘yes’. 

Hermione sighed and rested her hips against the bed Nathan had just vacated. “This can’t go on, Nathan. Can you imagine what would be like if you and Lily and Sirius all hated each other? How devastated Harry and Ginny and I would be?” 

“I can’t just listen to all the crap—

“Language.”

“—Malfoy says all the time and leave it at it. Everybody will think that what he says is true and that I’m a coward. And even if what he says were not complete lies, the way he talks to me—and everyone else, for that matter—is definitely wrong.”

“Your father will be talking to him.” Hermione would make sure of that.

Nathan chuckled, and Hermione didn’t like the sound of disbelief. “It won’t change anything. It hasn’t until now, in any case. All Malfoy has to do is make a pitiful face and whine, and all is forgiven.” 

Hermione frowned. “I’m sure it’s not like that, Nathan. Your father wouldn’t fall for any of that.”

“But Uncle Severus,” Nathan whined in a mockery imitation of the other boy. “It’s nauseating, Mum,” he added.

The Malfoy boy seemed to be as much the Slytherin stereotype as she remembered his parents to be, but it was still hard to believe that Severus would let himself be played in such a way. Although Hermione could remember how lenient Severus had always been where Draco was concerned, back when she was still a student. She thought it had something to do with the war, and even so, Hermione had wanted to be as respected by Severus as the Slytherin had seemed to be. _Ah…_ She finally understood. “You’re jealous,” Hermione pointed out.

“I’m not,” Nathan denied with fire in his eyes. “Why would I be jealous of that pompous… albino… moron?!” It was definitely jealousy, Hermione was sure, now. She waited patiently for Nathan’s admission. “It’s just…” he started. “Professor Snape always ends up calling him Devon instead of Mr. Malfoy, and all is solved. I, on the other hand, am _always_ Mr. Granger. There is no beating that. Malfoy will never be punished.” His voice died within his frustration and disappointment. 

Hermione smiled; they were so alike at times. “How can you expect him to call you Nathan, when you don’t drop the formalities yourself? Have you ever tried ‘Dad’ instead of ‘Professor Snape’?”

“Gryffindor would never win the House Cup again, Mum,” Nathan said in all seriousness.

Hermione’s smile grew into a grin at his son’s silliness. 

“No House Points were taken the last two times I’ve heard you calling Severus Dad,” she pointed out.

A faraway look crossed her son’s face while he, no doubt, remembered the moments he’d shared with Severus after waking up from the influence of the spell. He was so young and full of dreams…. Hermione was reminded of those times they had spent discussing the future—a conversation dreaded because of the path it always took: the unknown father. Now that she didn’t have to dread Nathan’s dreams, now that Hermione was free to dream herself, leaving the ghosts of the past where they belonged…. She wanted Nathan to dream as high as he wanted to. She smiled and hugged him to her side. Yes, it was time to look forward and fight for their dreams. “Let’s go, honey. We can talk about it as we walk to the Tower.”

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione couldn’t hold back her smile when Severus startled as he entered the room and found her there.

“Good morning,” she greeted with more cheerfulness than usual.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Her smile twisted into smirk like one of those he sometimes bestowed on her. “Did you miss me?” she asked, appreciating his irritation maybe a little too much. It wasn’t every day that she had the opportunity to catch the wizard unsuspecting. 

“Immensely,” he sneered and finally entered his office. “I thought I would be rid of you by now. You were once a woman of your word, Granger.” He settled behind the desk without sparing a glance her way, which was just as well, because Hermione’s grin would have infuriated him further, she knew.

She remained in silence, waiting.

He finally growled, giving her his full attention. “What do you want?”

“I thought I was clear the last time you asked me that, Severus.”

He only glared, and Hermione’s mirth slowly dissolved into seriousness.

“I was thinking about everything that happened this last week, and… I need you with me, Severus, by my side.” These confessions were always awkward, or so they felt that way. Maybe it was worse for Hermione because she was admitting her need of him _to him_ , as if her tenacity up to now had been a façade. She wanted to live through life like she had this week: with Severus. Was that a crime?

“Your side? What is this, a Quidditch bet where I need to take sides?” 

Of course he would make it an impossible task for her.

“I mean it, Severus. The past few days, I….” Hermione sighed. “Being lonely was easier when….” She was trying. “Before, I had only the memories of working with you, a distant reminder, easily blown out of proportions, but now…. Now, Severus, we’re raising Nathan together.” She hoped the way she lifted her chin would intimidate him to keep his denial to himself, so his firm nod of agreement surprised her.

“I’ve taken him as my responsibility, and I believe we can agree on most of what concerns Nathan.”

She bit her lip. “But that’s not all,” Hermione told him, needing him to understand what was between the lines.

“Yes, it very much is, Granger.”

“Why, Severus? Is the idea of my affection for you that repulsive?” She knew right there and then that she had ruined it. His expression answered her, and Hermione stood up so she could leave while there was still some dignity remaining. “Don’t answer,” she begged him, not meeting his gaze.

“I don’t understand you,” he told her. “Why do you insist upon this insanity, Hermione?”

“No, you don’t understand,” Hermione agreed, tired of justifying herself to him, ashamed for her heart lying exposed like that. She felt suddenly relived that there wasn’t a family meeting planned for this evening. She should go home, as she had promised she would last night. “Have a nice week, Professor Snape.” She nodded, formally, and then left hurriedly before the discomfort behind her eyes condensed into tears.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus sighed as the door clicked closed. Why did Hermione have to insist on this? If Severus didn’t know better, he would actually believe his own accusation of her insanity. She wasn’t insane, of course, so what was it? A religious conviction? A guilty complex? Masochistic impulses? What?

Maybe it was all an effort for Nathan—what Severus had once called the family crap. But he didn’t think that way anymore, and how could he, after Nathan calling him Dad? They were family, his son and him, but that didn’t include Hermione. Severus frowned. Nathan’s family included Hermione, but Severus’ didn’t. Could there be such a thing without hypocrisy? 

He closed his research journal and leaned back on the chair, looking at the closed door, contemplating the woman who had just left.

They would interact, there wasn’t a way around it, and in all sincerity, as long as she remained on topic—which meant Nathan—he couldn’t classify it as a problem. A friendship, then? Severus believed it was acceptable; Nathan was worth it. They also shared a work interest; she could hold an interesting conversation on occasion….

He snorted. Who was Severus trying to fool? She was the only one who had really tried to have any kind of relationship with him, apart from the Malfoys. Severus supposed he could live with her presence. She was the one sacrificing something after all, not him.

If only he understood why….

Severus re-opened the research journal. There would be plenty of time to analyze Granger, he was sure of that. He didn’t think she would be going away any time soon.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione Apparated into the alleyway near her apartment. She was crying like a foolish teenager, walking blindly up the well-known path to her building, climbing the stairs as quickly as she could. She had an annoying struggle with her keys and almost used magic to open the door—almost. She took a deep breath, enough to steady her hands and allow her to enter the apartment. Whatever control she had broke the moment she knew she was safely alone to wallow in self-pity.

Hermione was beginning to believe Severus when he said she was insane. How could someone be rejected again and again like she had been and keep going back for more? What kind of a sick woman would do that? How sick!

Sick and painful, like losing her ground, falling non-stop. When had she placed Severus into such an important place in her life that she now depended on him to breathe properly? 

A knock sounded on the door. 

Hermione wiped at her tears, struggling for control once again.

Another knock on the door.

More calming breaths. _This is ridiculous_. She was making a storm in a teapot. 

“Hermione?”

It was Erica, Hermione’s neighbor. 

“Hermione, are you okay?”

Hermione stood from the couch and opened the door for her friend. She must have been a frightening sight, because Erica widened her eyes the moment she saw her. “What happened? Is Nathan okay?”

Hermione almost started crying again at the mention of her—their—son. Had she made such an effort because Severus was Nathan’s father? Were he not, would she have gone so far in her… pleading? A sob escaped her, and Erica’s arms came around her, guiding Hermione back to the couch. “Nathan is—is fine,” she told her in choked tones. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” her friend sighed in relief all the while running circles on Hermione’s back. It helped. “Your friend William came looking for you, and he told me you were called away because there was something wrong with Nathan, and suddenly you’re back after days, crying…. I thought…. I don’t even know what I thought.”

Hermione was calmer now. She sniffed under her friend’s ministrations. “Nathan was ill. I was with him.”

“What happened?” Erica inquired.

Hermione left the couch. “Tea?” she offered. She knew Erica well and was certain that she could confide in her, but old secrets died hard….

“I’ll make the tea. You go splash some water on your face, put on something comfortable.” Erica shooed her from the room, and Hermione could hear the noises of metal touching metal in the kitchen as she walked through her bedroom into her bathroom. 

Looking at herself in the mirror made her close her eyes; only a soaking bath would do anything about _that_ , she mused. Hermione splashed her face, anyway. The water helped her clear her mind, if not her bruised eyes. She walked back into her bedroom and changed into something soft and warm, even though she shuddered still. She took a last deep breath before meeting Erica again. 

A teacup was shoved at her as she settled on the couch. Hermione sipped and grimaced.

“I know you prefer sugar in it, but I think the strong brew will do you better right now,” Erica justified. “Are you calmer now?”

Hermione nodded and then placed her cup on the low table facing the couch. “Thank you.”

Erica sat beside her on the cushion and looked at her expectantly. Hermione knew her friend wanted to know what had distressed her so but was self-conscious about asking. Hermione sighed, letting her eyes close briefly.

“I’m insane,” she confessed.

After some silence, Erica asked, “What do you mean?”

“I have lost my mind and, with it, any sense of pride or self-respect,” Hermione elaborated. “Oh, and I should mention my heart, the bugger. I’m blaming the stupid thing for all the trouble leading to my insanity.”

“Men?” Erica questioned.

Hermione snorted. “Is he a man, I wonder? Could such a heartless creature made of steel and ice be called human?” She grimaced before giving up and letting her head fall on the cushion behind her. “Severus,” she said, defeat coloring her voice.

“It sounds like a man’s name to me,” her friend commented. “One I have never heard from you before, but a man’s name, I’m quite sure.”

Hermione’s head dropped to the side, and she opened her eyes to look at Erica before saying, “He’s Nathan’s father.”

Erica’s eyes widened momentarily. “Did he…? Has he…? You were crying. Has he—”

“Never. He’s not like that.” Hermione averted her eyes from her friend’s. “I’m a fool.”

“I…. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to think.”

“It’s quite all right,” Hermione assured. “He’s a rightful bastard, only not like that.”

“Hermione.”

When Erica stopped at her name, Hermione sighed and straightened up on the couch, reaching for her strong tea. After sipping and grimacing again, she started, “I only met him again after Nathan started at the boarding school; he’s a teacher there. It was complicated, as you can imagine, especially after he found out about Nathan.”

“He didn’t know?!” Hermione looked down at her cup at Erica’s tone of accusation. “Sorry. I mean, I suspected it was something as complicated as this, but…. Oh, bloody hell,” Erica cursed, failing at her attempt of apology.

“I know. It is an utter disaster. Nathan is hurting, Severus is hurting, and it’s entirely my fault.” Hermione said that and hurt for the three of them. It hurt even more because talking about this to someone else made her feelings for Severus seem even more misplaced, or mistimed, at the very least. 

“They’re getting along now,” Hermione continued, trying to find the good in all this. “Nathan has called Severus ‘Dad’.” She attempted a smile.

“Do you love him?” Erica asked, and Hermione’s heart twisted in her chest, tears forming in the back of her eyes.

“I’m insane,” was her broken answer.

“Oh, my dear.” Erica took the cup from her hand and pulled her into a hug. Hermione sobbed into her friend’s shoulder and let her frustration reign and seep through her tears; stupid but liberating tears. But they dried eventually, leaving Hermione empty but peaceful.

“So, he’s a professor,” Erica said after the silence had become comfortable enough to be broken. “I can’t say I’m overly surprised.”

“He’s a lot like Nathan: intelligent, stubborn….”

“And I thought Nathan had got those traits from you.”

Hermione couldn’t hold back the smile as it grew, pulling the edges of her mouth. “The dark hair, the eyes, the graceful hands…” she continued. “Nathan is definitely Severus’ son,” Hermione surmised. “Not that I have ever doubted it,” she was quick to add, realizing how that last statement could be misinterpreted.

Erica smiled, accepting Hermione’s assurances. Erica was a good friend; she would never judge Hermione, even if the identity of Nathan’s father had been completely unknown. That made Hermione wonder what Erica would think of Severus. Erica and she were close in age; her friend had always been a font of support in matters of the heart, helping Hermione in her insecurities and fears regarding relationships she had had in the past. Could she help her access her feelings for Severus, this mass of confusion and pain and lightness that had taken her heart and wouldn’t leave?

Hermione realized that Erica had been observing her closely, no doubt curious about Severus. Hermione decided that things couldn't get any worse than they already were.

“Since I saw him again, I have lost control of my thoughts, my dreams…. It’s like I’ve been waiting all my life for this moment when I would meet Severus and… wake up for….” It was harder to explain than Hermione thought. 

“Love at first sight?” Erica offered. 

“I thought so, but then I’m not so sure anymore. I’m losing my mind, Erica. He says I’m insane, and I’m starting to think that he is right.”

“He’s wrong. Love isn’t all that rational, Hermione. You’re not insane,” her friend admonished. “Maybe you’ve loved him since before. Maybe you’ve never stopped loving him, not even after all these years you spent apart.”

“I…” How could Hermione explain that there had been no love involved in Nathan’s conception? “There is no before, Erica,” she started. “Severus and I were never a couple. Nathan…. We spent one night together, and Severus never spoke to me again, not until recently.”

“And you were undoubtedly hurt by his behavior,” Erica assumed. 

No, she hadn't been. She was the one who had run from the wizarding world—from him. “I never looked for him, either. There was nothing between us.”

“Surely, there was _something_ between you,” Erica disagreed. “I can’t imagine you spending a night with a man you didn’t know.”

“We worked together; I was his assistant for a couple of assignments.” Hermione hesitated, her face burning before she added, “He was my teacher before that.”

Erica’s eyes gained a mischievous shine.

“It wasn’t like that,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t have a crush on him while at school, or anything of the sort. Wrong teacher,” she mumbled that last part. “I admire Severus for his brilliance, intelligence, integrity. He’s very respectful as a man and in his field of expertise. He’s a demanding teacher, and I doubt he’s a favorite of any of his students—although Nathan always liked his classes best,” Hermione added as an afterthought, and then tried to remember why she hadn’t seen Severus’ brilliance from the start. 

Ah, yes. He had gone out of his way to be a git to Harry and friends, herself included.

“He couldn’t stand me as a student, and I resented him for that,” Hermione admitted. “It wasn’t until I was out of school and working with him that I started to really understand why he was such a bastard of a teacher.”

“And then you fell in love with him, shared his bed, and…” Erica stopped mid-sentence, as if a puzzle had clicked together in her head. “He’s married, isn’t he?”

“No!” Hermione’s energy in her denial took even her by surprise. “I mean, no, he’s single. I assume that there wasn’t much time for relationships in his life back then, and Severus is very reserved, he doesn’t socialize much.” She hadn’t considered any past love life Severus might have had. Nor had she considered much on his life away from Hogwarts. He didn’t seem to ever leave the castle, although he must do on occasion. The fact that Severus had a godson whom she hadn’t been aware of proved that he had a social life outside those stone walls. 

Hermione frowned. Was he married? Divorced? She laughed suddenly. He wasn’t, or he would have used the wife factor to send her away. 

“What’s funny?” Erica asked, clearly confused.

“Severus with a wife,” Hermione answered still smiling, then sobered. “He’s a loner who keeps anyone trying to get into his life at arm’s length.” Hermione remembered the many arguments they had had regarding Nathan in that light. “I don’t think he deems himself worthy of being cared for.”

“And you care for him.”

“But he doesn’t care for me. He has made that very clear more than once.”

“Are you sure? You’re such a lovable woman, Hermione….”

She smiled at the compliment. “I’m quite sure, Erica. He said so in as many words.” Hermione looked at the empty teacups on the low table, her heart constricting in her chest. “I’ll accept his wishes and move on.”

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan was barely out of the Hospital Wing, enjoying the excitement of being back into this side of the world, once more able to interact with his friends, and he was already expected in his father’s office for detention. At least, it wouldn’t be just him this time—Kevin and Andy were also summoned.

“I can’t understand why I should be in detention, too,” complained Andy. “All I did was tell you that you were getting yourselves into trouble. Now, you got into trouble, and I have to pay for being right.”

“Stop acting like a whining Hufflepuff and walk faster, Andy. It won’t get any better if we’re a second late,” Kevin told him.

“It’s not that bad,” Nathan reassured his troubled friend. “It’ll be only for a few hours.” 

Nathan felt responsible for his friends’ detention, but there was nothing he could do now. He didn’t know what mood the sour professor would be in, and not having to face the man alone was all Nathan could think about at the moment. He hadn’t seen his father since waking up, and he could remember all too well how he’d clung to the man, unable to hold himself back from his suddenly caring dad.

How would his father greet him now? Would they be back to Mr. Granger and Professor Snape? Nathan had had little time to think about all that had happened during his sojourn outside his body, and for him, a lot had changed—his soul had changed. 

They reached the office door, which was open. Nathan’s anxiety about meeting his father again was quickly replaced by instant irritation. 

Malfoy was there. 

Nathan and his friends walked in, joining the Slytherin in front of Professor Snape’s desk. A flick of the man’s hand, and the door closed behind them. The Potions master left his seat and began a circle around the four students.

“You’re here tonight because of your uncanny incompetence at understanding and following rules; some of you after being painstakingly reminded of them.” That last part was said really close to Malfoy’s ear. Professor Snape paused there and then started walking again. “Unfortunately, your lack of wit can’t be overlooked when it reaches life-threatening proportions.” This time, the last words were said directly at Nathan’s right ear. After a meaningful pause, Professor Snape stood facing the four. “There are several dirty cauldrons awaiting you in the classroom. Since your intelligence and judgment are unreliable, I can’t allow you the use of your wands. Brainless, manual work seems much more fitting, don’t you agree?” He raised an eyebrow.

No one felt like answering that question.

“The cauldrons won’t get cleaned by themselves!” Professor Snape barked, and the boys started for the door all at once. “Mr. Granger,” the man called, and Nathan stayed behind, standing close to the exit door. It wasn’t until the others were gone that his father beckoned, “Nathan, come over here.”

The use of his name made Nathan’s shoulders lose some of their stiffness. He walked back to his father’s desk and waited.

“How are you feeling?”

The question was pleasantly surprising. “I’m fine,” Nathan answered.

His father watched him intently, and probably attesting to the veracity of his short answer, he nodded and reached for a vial of red potion on his desk.

“Drink this,” the man instructed, handing him the vial already unstoppered. “It’s Pepper-Up Potion, and you’ll be taking it once a day for the next three days.”

Steam escaped Nathan’s ears in an after-effect of the potion. His father nodded his approval again.

“You’ll be expected in my office every evening after dinner to take it.”

Nathan nodded. “Thank you…” He almost added a ‘Dad’ after his thanks, but didn’t. The new situation still made him feel a little wrong-footed, uncertain about how to act around the man, despite what his mum had said. First he was called a dimwitted moron, and then he was treated to fatherly concern. Who was he dealing with, Professor Snape or his dad? Who should he address?

“Come,” his father said, relieving him of the dilemma and pushing him towards the door with a gentle hand. “You still have a cauldron to clean.”

They walked together to the Potions classroom. Nathan sighed as soon as he saw that he would be obliged to take the cauldron sitting on the same workbench as Malfoy’s. Nathan didn’t want to disappoint his mother, nor his father, but he still despised Malfoy for all he had done. The blond boy didn’t take his attention from his task as he approached, and that was all the best for Nathan. 

He put himself to work, as well trying to be isolated in his thoughts, and although he had successfully blocked out Malfoy, the same couldn’t be said about his dad. Nathan wanted to look at the front of the classroom, where he would find his father. The gentleness of how he had been treated earlier made him miss his dad—his father’s freed soul. He wanted to talk to _that_ Severus Snape again; he wanted things to be the way they had been in the Astronomy Tower, always. Nathan scrubbed the cauldron and went through the many questions he hadn’t asked, then, that burned the tip of his tongue, now.

Patience: it was what the man’s soul had asked. That was also what his mother had asked of him before leaving, but her request pertained to another wizard. Nathan chanced a glance at Malfoy. Did he know his dad—the man behind the harsh exterior? Nathan hoped not. He wanted that part of Snape for himself alone.

Nathan took a break to rest his tired arms. He was looking at his father when the man in question glanced up a few moments later and met his eyes. He seemed tired, Nathan thought, and felt instantly responsible. He started to scrub the cauldron again, to finish detention quicker, so his dad could rest. _My dad._ Nathan smiled fondly.

Not much later, a chair scratched the floor, but Nathan continued with his task, undisturbed. He sensed a cessation of movement at his side and realized that Malfoy had suddenly stopped working, and that fact demanded his attention. Nathan raised his head in time to see the pleading eyes Malfoy turned onto Professor Snape, and he was glad to find no sympathy reflected in his father’s gaze. 

Nathan absently scrubbed and watched the scene developing before him. His father glowered at his godson; Malfoy lowered his eyes and began, slowly, to scrub again. Nathan smirked and immediately heard his father sigh. Soon, the man was standing before their workbench, blocking most of the light.

“We’re here tonight because you can’t be civil to one another,” Professor Snape told them.

Nathan, taking a long last look at his father’s tired eyes, felt his guilt rise anew and drove his attention elsewhere. 

“You do realize that nothing you do will change the situation, don’t you?”

Nathan saw Malfoy nod from the corner of his eye. He focused his gaze on his father’s left ear, unable to meet his eyes, and nodded, too.

“Nathan is my son, Devon, and I’d like you to treat him as such,” his father told the Slytherin.

“Yes, Uncle Severus,” the boy agreed in a voice little higher than a whisper.

“Nathan, Devon is my godson, and I’d like you to treat him accordingly,” his father then told him.

“Yes, sir,” he answered dutifully. 

Apparently, too dutifully, if his father’s intense stare told him anything. Nathan bit at his lower lip as uncertainness took over him once more, leaving him anxious. 

“I mean it, Nathan,” the man restated.

“I know, sir. I understand,” he tried to reassure him, feeling his cheeks heating. He wanted his father to move back to his desk so the awkwardness would go away. Nathan went quickly back to work, keeping his eyes on the cauldron. He hadn’t realized how silent the classroom had become until the noise of work came back around him. Nathan sucked his lip back between his teeth, scrubbing harder.

After what seemed an eternity, he finished his work, approached his father’s desk, and said, “The cauldron is clean. May I go, sir?”

His father’s attention weighed on him. Nathan hid his hands in his pockets, shifting his foot to trace between two stones on the floor and setting his head down to watch it.

“Are you feeling well?”

The question froze Nathan’s movements. “I’m a bit tired, I suppose.”

“Very well,” his father conceded. “You may go.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

Nathan didn’t even think about waiting for his friends, and to be honest, he had only remembered them when he entered the dormitory they shared. He took an exasperated breath, thinking himself stupid for acting like a baby down in the dungeons. Professor Snape, his father, his dad—he could see all three in the man tonight, and his head hurt. Nathan kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his robes, and was soon ready for bed.

Sleeping, this time blissfully unconscious, would make him feel all right.

And dreaming could lead him to his dad. Nathan smiled and let himself go to dreamland.

~o0oOo0o~

With time, things came back to certain normality. Nathan had decided that he would follow his father’s lead and see how that felt. He would call him Professor Snape and sir whenever he was addressed as Mr. Granger, and he would call him… nothing at all whenever his father used his given name.

It made sense.

A few times, especially before going to bed, Nathan would debate substituting “nothing at all” with “dad” and deal with the consequences. 

The consequences…. He could imagine being in his dad’s arms, engulfed by love and acceptance. He could imagine being sent away to never be called anything other than Mr. Granger ever again. It was too risky. His dad had asked him to be patient for a reason. 

He’d been patient for the first week, had met his father dutifully for three days to take his potion, had shared an awkward dinner with both his parents on Sunday, and had gone through Potions class without any incident. Malfoy was keeping to himself, probably too horrified by the idea of cleaning more cauldrons, and Nathan couldn’t care less.

On the Wednesday after that, Nathan had met his father for tea and stilted conversation. That night, he had ached for a chance to be with his dad again and had slept in the hopes that his dreams would stir that way and that he would be blessed with the memory of their meeting in the morning. 

Nathan had accepted that as the new normalcy of his life, even after waking up feeling empty on many mornings. He had tried to fill the void by playing with his friends and corresponding with the people he loved. His godfather had been great at avoiding the subject of Snape, so had been Uncle Ron. That hadn’t helped much, Nathan had realized. He wanted someone he could talk to _about_ his father. He had gone to Professor Lupin’s office. 

“Professor Lupin, are you there?” The door hadn’t been locked. Nathan had peered inside to what had seemed an empty room. He had decided to enter, but at the same moment, a door opened on the opposite side of the room, and Professor Lupin had come in, only he had been accompanied by Nathan’s father.

“Nathan?” Professor Lupin had said, visibly surprised by his presence there.

“Hello, Professor Lupin,” he had greeted, and then he had nodded at his father. “Hi.” 

His father had nodded back, and both professors had waited for Nathan to reveal why he had been there.

“Er…. I was… doing homework, and I… had this question about it.”

His father had watched him intently, and Nathan had known he was fidgeting. Why did his father have to be in Professor Lupin’s office the very moment he had decided to look for his Head of House? It had irritated Nathan then, and it still did now.

“I can ask tomorrow in class, sir. Good evening.”

He had fled before any of the wizards could object. Nathan was not a coward; no, he was pretty much certain of that fact. What he’d done had simply proven that he could still be patient and wait. He had left and headed back to Gryffindor Tower, and the day after that, he had made up a question for Professor Lupin about their assigned homework. 

On Friday, he had hugged his mother for longer than usual. She’d kissed his forehead, and his eyes had fluttered shut.

“What is it?” she had asked, worried.

“It’s nothing,” he’d told her. “I missed you.”

“Is everything okay between you and your dad?”

The tiny word had hurt him, but Nathan had managed a smile. “It is.”

She’d seemed satisfied with his answer and had let go of any other probing into his emotions she might have had in mind.

Family dinner that weekend had felt even more disconnected from reality than the preceding one. It had been when he’d felt his mum slipping away from her usual behavior, too, and had thought, not for the first time, that maybe he had awakened to a life in another dimension. He was Nathan Granger, but the world around him belonged to some other version of him, like in the movies. That would explain why dinner in Professor Snape’s quarters had been such an ordinary event that weekend. There or in the Great Hall, the experience would have been the same, in Nathan’s understanding.

Nathan had observed his mum attentively, then. Was she hiding something? Her silence usually meant that…. Or perhaps he hadn’t been behaving like the Nathan from this dimension, and they would confront him any moment. She had been polite, as always, but too quiet, and the whole evening had gone by with both his parents alternatively questioning him about the most mundane things. Had they been trying to find out if he was who he said he was? 

This was no supernatural movie. 

What was going on…?

“I won’t be able to visit next week,” his mother had announced after the dishes had vanished.

“Why not?” Nathan had asked, his apprehension rising.

“There is a conference in Madrid next weekend,” she had told him and smiled. “William and I have a couple of presentations to make.”

“Oh.” Nathan hadn’t wanted her to go away, but had thought of nothing better to say or protest at the time. 

His father, on the other hand…. “All your other dates stood you up?”

She had ignored the odd question, keeping her eyes on Nathan. “What can I bring you from Spain?”

“Hmmm. A sword? A king’s sword.” He had smiled, taking comfort in the familiarity of the tradition. Every time his mum had to travel to some conference and leave him behind, she would ask him what would be his compensation for being a good boy while she was away. He had a collection of keychains from all over Europe because of that. 

“A king’s sword?” She had feigned awe. “That will be a difficult task. I assume you know that a king’s sword can’t be bought? I might need to defy the king himself for a duel!”

Nathan had smiled at his mother’s antics. He had been about to retort when his father had beaten him at it.

“Not advisable if your choice of knight is a Muggle.”

“William can help you choose the sword, Mum. He’ll know which one to buy,” Nathan had told his mother and earned a dazzling smile in return. 

His father had gone mute after that and remained distant since. During that week’s tea meeting, he had been formal and colder than before, if possible. It had made Nathan wonder…. But think as he might, he couldn’t understand what he could have done to deserve that. There was something going on, and he couldn’t begin to figure out what. That last family dinner had been as far as his mind had gone, and that hadn’t been of much help. Nathan hadn’t done or said anything to upset his father—at least, he thought he hadn’t; he could never know with Professor Snape.

Maybe he had been upset because his mother wouldn’t come the following weekend. It was a possibility, because on Sunday next, Nathan had approached his father at the High Table at lunch.

“Should I meet you in your office or go straight to your rooms tonight?” he had asked. He hadn’t known what to do without his mother to accompany him to the meeting.

“What for?” his father had retorted, frowning. 

Nathan had frowned back. “For dinner,” Nathan had reminded him, irritated.

“Your mother is not here.”

“But I’m still here,” he had pointed out. “And you’re here, too.” Now, thinking of it, that had been a rather rude way to put things, but really, the words had been out before Nathan could think better of it. 

Nevertheless, instead of an angry retort, Nathan had earned only a softened look from the man. “My quarters, if you know the way.”

“I do,” Nathan had said before going back to the Gryffindor Table.

He had thought of not going to the meeting after that, but he'd gone in the end. Silence—awkward, heavy—defined that evening. 

In retrospect, since he’d cursed himself, things had gone the opposite way from where Nathan had hoped they would go. Wishful thinking, but he had wanted to smile at his dad, joke around, act like someone with nothing troubling him. This year was starting to suck as much as the one before. 

To prove that he was not wrong in his conclusions, Nathan had gone to his father’s office earlier today for their usual tea and had regretted it the moment he’d seen the man bent over his desk, almost hidden by parchments and books.

“If you’re too busy, we can skip today’s meeting,” Nathan had offered. It had pained him then, and it still did now, that his father had visibly considered it. He didn’t want to be an obligation on the man’s schedule.

“I’ll take a break,” had been his overdue answer. They had walked to his father’s quarters, and tea had been served, as usual. 

Nathan had tried to get a real conversation going, but all he had gotten from his father had been grunts and one-word replies. His father hadn’t been there at all—and his dad, least of all. He was nowhere to be seen, completely outside of Nathan’s reach.

He should have gone back to the common room, but Nathan had chosen a different path. He had intended to go to the Astronomy Tower, but hadn’t managed to get himself there, either. His steps had been slowing down until his feet had stopped altogether. 

Because his dad wouldn’t be in the Astronomy Tower. 

His dad was a prisoner in his father’s body and was currently in the dungeons. 

Nathan looked around and realized he was standing across the corridor from the big window with the most beautiful view of the grounds, forest and the village of Hogsmeade. It was his favorite place in the castle, where he always came to think undisturbed. He sat on the sill and watched the wind blow the trees, shaking snowy leaves in the cold evening.

Patience, patience. He was sick of being patient. What could have been so bloody difficult? Nathan knew his father could be wonderful if he wanted to; it was who he was inside! Not for the first time since waking up, Nathan thought about performing the spell to free his soul again, just for one night, and rush to find his dad, to tell him to hurry up, to find a way to take control, because Nathan could not wait any longer.

He had no patience left.

Waiting was a waste of time, and they had lost too much time already. Being patient was getting them nowhere. Nowhere!

He touched his forehead on the glass that held most of the cold outside and watched his breath fog the view of the grounds below. 

Nathan was tired.

He left one leg loose, dangling against the stone wall. 

Nathan was tired of expectations. He was tired of having them shattered, proved unfounded.

Nathan was simply and plainly exhausted.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus sighed heavily. “I’m starting to think that you enjoy cleaning cauldrons.” The boy’s leg stopped its pendulous movement in reaction to his words, but slowly started dangling again.

Severus approached, saying, “I’m sure you know that you shouldn’t be here.” His body shadowed the light coming from a torch aflame on the opposite wall. The leg stopped once more. “So, all that is left to know is why you are here, nonetheless.”

“Doesn’t any other teacher patrol the corridors?” Nathan finally looked up at him to add, “Why does it have to always be you?”

Severus’ brows drew closer, annoyed by his son’s defiance. “What are you doing here, Mr. Granger?”

“Watching the lights of Hogsmeade,” the boy answered, turning back to look out the window again. “Sir.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“Because,” Nathan answered, dangling his leg again. 

When the boy went silent, Severus’s patience ran out, and he growled, “Because what?”

“Just because.” 

_Impertinent boy!_ Severus thought. “Don’t try my patience, Mr. Granger.” 

His son pulled his head from the window and sat facing him with what seemed to be a great effort. Each dragged movement Nathan made was clearly an affront, and Severus was not pleased. Looking him into the face with eyes that betrayed the calm of his movements, Nathan said, “You’re too patient, _sir_.” Standing, he added, “I have none left.” He tried to flee, but Severus caught him by the robes.

“Not so fast.” Severus grabbed Nathan by the arm, then, and made him turn to look at him again. “When I ask you something, I expect an answer! Don’t think you’re above the rules of this school or that you are at liberty to act as you please.” He paused, searching his son’s face for his reaction. “I won’t tolerate your cheek, boy! I am your father, and you owe me respect!”

Nathan shook himself out of his grasp. “Now you remember?” Severus watched Nathan’s nostrils flare. “When you want me to obey you and be all respectful and friends with your godson, then you’re my father?”

Severus wanted to tell him to watch his tone when speaking to him, but pursed his lips instead. “You’re not being reasonable. We have just spent hours together, have we not? You’re—”

“You weren’t even there!” the boy yelled. “We haven’t had a conversation since….”

The pain in Nathan’s eyes took the air from around Severus, and suddenly, that window to his son’s soul closed behind heavy lids. The boy lowered his head, probably trying to rein in his emotions, and all Severus could think of was… why? Why was his son in pain? What had he done to hurt his boy now?

“Nathan…” 

Bright eyes started at him, big and open.

“Please, Dad. Please,” Nathan begged in a rushed whisper, eyes never leaving Severus’, completely melting his defenses.

“What is it?” Severus asked urgently as he approached his distraught boy. Arms surged around him, halting his advance with the impact of it, holding him there, tightly.

“I have been patient. I have! I was waiting, like I said I would, but I don’t think…. Dad, I just can’t wait anymore. Please don’t go.”

Severus brought his hands to Nathan’s hair, and that seemed to relax the deathly hold the boy had on his person. Severus hadn’t understood what Nathan was trying to say through all his babbling, but realized that the boy needed time before he would be coherent and ready to be questioned again. 

He waited. Outwardly immobile, but racing on the inside, he waited. To move would mean to go, and Nathan had begged him not to—that he had understood perfectly well, but what of all the rest, about waiting and patience? He wouldn’t move and leave his son’s arms, but how would that help Nathan? Severus wasn’t warm enough, he had never been.

He held the boy in the silence and hoped that he was doing the right thing. He could only hope.

Nathan turned his head from left to right on his chest, but didn’t make any move to release him. Severus took the movement as a sign to let his questions loose.

“What’s going on, Nathan?”

“I miss you, Dad,” his son answered. Severus couldn’t understand what he meant by that.

“How could you miss me?” he tried.

“Because I hoped I wouldn’t lose you; I thought you would be there when I woke up, but then it was like you had never been there in the Astronomy Tower at all.” 

Severus stiffened in a helpless reaction to the mention of that place. He didn’t want Nathan to know about the life-changing events that had happened there. His son could not know. There was no warmth in him; Severus wanted the boy to take his hands off him. He didn’t need his child to be part of the coldness.

He pushed Nathan by the shoulders, but only got him far enough to meet his eyes.

“Can we talk?” the boy asked.

 _No!_ Severus thought immediately. The answer must have been evident on his features.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” 

_How can I forget…._

“You were sleeping. It was only our souls. Don’t you remember taking me from the Hospital Wing? We went to the Astronomy Tower, then.”

Severus furrowed his brows, unable to connect these events that his son was narrating with the night Albus….

“You were the best.” The boy smiled. “We stood in the wind. You told me stories about when you were a first-year. You told me about flying and the time you went through the branches of a tree because you lost control of your broom during flight class, and how you had to spend the night in the Hospital Wing because of a broken leg.”

Severus eyes went wide while his son sniggered uncharacteristically. “Who told you that?” he demanded, alarmed by Nathan’s knowledge of such episode of his childhood.

Nathan sobered, but kept a tight smile. “You did, but you don’t remember, do you?” His smile died slowly. “You were sleeping. For you, it was all just a dream, only it wasn’t. Your soul was there with mine. We were there, and I can remember everything, because I wasn’t sleeping—it was the spell. I remember everything. It wasn’t a dream.”

Severus was starting to grasp some sense of what Nathan spoke about, but there were still many things off in all this. “My soul was with yours, but we never left the Hospital Wing.”

“No, not when you were there through the spell, but we did when you were sleeping,” Nathan told him. “It was you who explained it to me. When the body sleeps, the soul is free. Mum was there, too, but she didn’t go with us to the Astronomy Tower.”

Cheap theories. What Nathan was telling him were only theories created and followed by the likes of Sybill Trelawney. Severus opened his mouth to point that out, but stopped short of saying anything when his logic was challenged. 

How would Nathan know about his broom accident in first year? 

“I’m not lying to you,” Nathan assured. “You were there with me, in your sleep.”

“I…” Severus started. How could he believe this? How could he doubt it? “It’s after curfew.” He needed time. “We should leave this discussion to a more appropriate time. You should be in your bed.” 

“I was hoping that you would remember.” Disappointment: it hung in the air between them, growing cold as he lost his son’s embrace. Nathan’s eyes were just as cold as the castle’s air around him. Nathan turned his back on him and asked, “When do I meet you for detention, sir?”

A feeling of utter loss settled in Severus’ heart. He sighed loudly in the silent corridor. “I don’t want to give you more detentions, Nathan.” He stared at the back of his son’s head, trying to decipher its content. He wanted to understand what had gone so wrong, why Nathan felt so lost, but now was not the time.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” he mumbled. “I’ll walk you to your common room.” Placing a hand between Nathan’s shoulder blades, Severus coaxed him to obey, heavily walking them both through the empty corridors.

What Nathan had described was indeed the stuff of dreams. As much as Severus wanted to believe that all the moments he had shared with his son in his wishful mind had actually happened, that Severus had been able to make his son laugh, it was surreal.

He looked at the boy walking beside him. Severus had dreamed that he could laugh with his son, and as much as he wanted to make his dreams come true, the man he pretended to be in his dreams would never be real—he didn’t know how to be that man. 

Severus was broken, something he had accepted a long time ago. Nothing could fix him; there was no redemption for him, and he had lived his life in penance.

He watched Nathan enter Gryffindor Tower, shoulders heavy and head bowed, and it felt like a kick in the guts.

Severus was breaking his son, as he had known he would, and Nathan had done nothing to deserve such punishment. That was what happened to those who tried to be part of his life, though. As he walked the corridors alone, Severus realized that he walked empty, because his heart had stayed back, at the mercy of the small hands of his son. 

Later, tossing on his bed, unable to find peace when every time his eyes closed, another pair of disappointed ones invaded his mind, Severus knew he couldn’t rest while the anguish remained. 

He had known from the beginning that this time would come, and he had fought with all his might against this overwhelming power. Severus reached a point of no return, where his life depended on his son’s ability to be happy. No more fighting. There was no coming back, and Severus knew it. 

He would breathe to see Nathan breathe. He would die to make him happy, or, Merlin help him, live trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, there, Severus. It’s going to be all right. You’re just starting to enjoy parenthood. :0P 
> 
> I need to thank Annie Talbot, who holds my hand through the writing process. I can’t thank you enough, Annie! :0) Oh, and she’s also my beta, together with the extraordinary GinnyW! Am I lucky, or what? *hugs*
> 
>  **Coming next…** Severus makes a decision that will change his—and other's—life irrevocably.


	30. Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus makes a decision that will change his—and others’—life irrevocably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part of a chapter that got too long to be posted as one and is then the foundation for what comes next. So if you get frustrated easily, you might want to wait the next chapter post to read them as one (as I intended them to be read at first). 
> 
> **WARNING:** This chapter has adult content not meant for those under 18 years old.
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

Looks exchanged with his son were embedded with that evening’s conversation at the shadowy corridor. They hadn’t spoken since, and the magnification of that moment only grew as their silent regard of each other continued. Days and nights spent in contemplation; days and nights spent in torture. _There’s nothing I can do_ , Severus reminded himself when his boy’s eyes turned from his, leaving him with no answers and carrying with them only more disappointment.

Severus wanted _that_ expression off of Nathan’s face, but how could he accost his son and demand that he explain his wishes if all he would do was crush every single one of them? _There’s nothing I can do_ , he reinforced mentally, because he couldn’t do that to his son, and he wouldn’t. 

Nathan would grow to understand that it wasn’t his fault, but Severus’. He couldn’t construe how Nathan had entered his dreams to pry, and it didn’t matter, as long as his son knew they could never be real, that there was nothing Severus could do about it.

Severus had started taking a dream suppressor that same night, trying to guard those traitorous moments from Nathan. He meant no harm by it. He simply couldn’t be that man, not even if he wanted to. He just didn’t know how. There was an abyss between him and that man. _There’s fucking nothing I can do!_

Granger would arrive after her time with her Muggle _knight_ and would be, no doubt, too distracted daydreaming to realize that he’d fucked things up with Nathan again. _Good_ , he made a conscious effort to think, _I’m not in any bloody mood to be lectured._ Especially since…

_There is nothing I can fucking do!_

~o0oOo0o~

His mother had just arrived home. She was to be in London for the night and would come to Hogwarts only the next morning, or so she had told him in her letter. Nathan had missed her this week more than he had any other, which was plain stupid, because whether she was at home in London or in a conference in Spain or someplace else, it was the same.

Nathan felt like a baby for missing his mum, especially when he looked around him and found his friends, who hadn’t seen their parents in much longer than two weeks. 

Also, his father was right there at the High Table.

Nathan looked at him, and the longing was quickly pushed back. What had happened Wednesday night had been a stupid mistake. Was it asking too much that his father stay in the dungeons just once? Why did the man have to haunt the corridors every single night? _Just to catch me being a silly baby, that’s why_ , Nathan thought and felt immediately drained, averting his eyes from the man. 

He wasn’t going to let that happen again. He wasn’t a silly baby.

 _I’m not a silly baby!_ Nathan asserted to himself.

He could pretty much erase that episode from his mind and act like it had never happened. Professor Snape seemed to have done just that. 

Although the man seemed to almost….

No, Nathan wouldn’t dwell on those silly hopes, even if he’d caught the man watching him more than once. Silly hopes were for silly little babies. _I’m not a silly baby!_

Nathan was twelve, not five. It was time to forget about those dreams of a caring, participative father. The boys were talking about the Quidditch finals. He should be focusing on that. 

And Nathan really tried.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione arrived later than she had planned. Her mistake had been stopping by her office on Friday after almost a week of absence. Her external mail alone had made her skip dinner; the news the internal mail brought had made her waste her Saturday morning. It was the old story: take a leave, and the graduate students were bound to damage something expensive and essential. 

Well, now it was Saturday afternoon, and all she could do was done. She strode up from the gates of Hogwarts, wanting nothing more than her son’s warmth to counter the chilly Scottish weather. She found him in one of the winter gardens, running with other children in some form of lively game.

Hermione’s chest swelled with joy, and some of the stiffness gripping her shoulders eased. She had been more worried than she’d been consciously aware of. 

_It’s not as if Severus was out to break Nathan’s heart, too._

Of course she was trying to forget that Severus was rather adept at breaking hearts. Of course she was trying to separate her feelings, compartmentalize Severus into father and man. Staying away had added to her internal fight. She was doing fine, she was.

Nathan spotted her and waved. Hermione beamed at her sunshine and waved back. He seemed contented. Watching him with the other kids was a balm to her worries. Surely nothing catastrophic had happened while she was away.

She didn’t know how long she remained standing there, watching. Probably for too long, since now Nathan was running to her, leaving the game behind.

“Hi,” he greeted somewhat out of breath.

“Is the game over?” she asked, hugging him briefly.

“Nah,” Nathan answered, short of breath. Calming, he added, “It’s just tag. Are you going to the lab?”

“I was actually heading for the library, but first I need to—”

“I’m going with you,” he interrupted and ran back to the children still playing in the garden, most probably to tell them he was officially off the game. He was panting again when he reached her and animatedly said, “Let’s go!” He held her by the hand, guiding her through the halls.

Nathan had obviously missed her. The knowledge warmed her heart. 

“What’s all the rush?” she asked.

“Did you bring the sword?” he asked back.

“Ah, the sword. You almost made me believe you had missed me.”

Nathan looked up at her with mirth in his eyes while they waited for the stairs. “No, it’s only the sword,” he told her in obvious jest, but then the light in his eyes was muted by something that crossed his mind.

“I missed you, too,” she told him then, hoping that whatever had troubled her son would be appeased by her love for him. She also hoped Severus wasn’t behind the trouble.

The climb from there on was made in silence. Hermione wanted Nathan to know that she was aware of his need for support and took the steps with him enclosed in a half hug. By the time they’d crossed the threshold into her quarters, Nathan was smiling softly, and she knew she’d succeeded and whatever was weighing him down had been left aside for the moment. If he wasn’t ready to talk yet, she would wait. 

Hermione took a package from her pocket and enlarged it. When Nathan reached out for it, though, she held it away.

“Have you done your homework, been to all classes, done all your readings?” She arched an eyebrow.

“Of course I have.”

“Will Professor Lupin have any surprising detention to relate to me over dinner?”

Nathan hesitated then. 

“Nathan!” she admonished outraged.

“No, no detentions!” he quickly amended.

“And you weren’t sure?” Her hands went to her hips. No wonder she’d found white hair in her fringe the other day; this boy would age her before her years.

“I am! No detentions, I swear!”

“Maybe I should consider a visit with your Head of House before delivering this gift. We had an agreement: you’d behave yourself while I was away, then I would bring you a gift from Spain. That was the deal.”

“But I behaved!” Nathan assured her. “Mum…” he whined.

“If I find out that you’re hiding something from me, I’ll take this back and you’ll never see it again.” She delivered the package, then.

“You won’t have to take it back,” he said before destroying the wrapping. “Wow.” 

Hermione smiled, watching her awed son. “I take it we’ve chosen well.”

“You know you have.” He smiled. “It’s Excalibur!”

“A replica, of course, and smaller than it should be, Charmed so it won’t hurt anyone, but yes, it’s King Arthur’s sword.”

“It’s perfect!” Nathan exclaimed. “Thank you, thank you!” He hugged her briefly.

“You’re welcome. Just make sure I won’t have reason to take it from you.” She gave a look of warning that was completely lost in her son’s delight with her gift. 

She left him to it. Hermione needed to dress in robes so they could head for the library and she could start prying information out of Nathan.

 _Please, Severus, remain his Dad still,_ she urged silently.

~o0oOo0o~

In the many hours she’d spent with Nathan, Hermione could count with the fingers of a single hand the number of times she’d heard him refer to his father, let alone hear him call Severus ‘Dad.’ It was discouraging, in the very least. She knew Nathan had decided what he wanted from Severus now, so, as much as she hadn’t expected to find them rejoicing in familial love, Hermione hadn’t expected to find Nathan ignoring Severus altogether the way he was, either.

Denial was all good and safe, but as Nathan’s mother, she’d have to step in and see to it. They were all beating around the bush, it seemed. Well, maybe not all of them, but she couldn’t tell if Severus was ignoring _her_ , because _she_ had been definitely avoiding _him_. She’d managed to stay out of his way in what she’d convinced herself wasn’t staying out of his way; she’d simply been busy in places other than his lab, which was perfectly true, if not actually random. But now that there was no place to hide there in the Great Hall, she’d die to have a hiding place. Hermione wanted to kick herself for even trying to avoid him in the first place. As if she could forget Severus Snape when under the same roof as the man. Oh, she could go permanently blind and she would still be able to sense his presence just two seats away.

 _Be an adult once in your abysmal love life, Hermione!_ she admonished herself. _You let him break your heart, now deal with it!_

And deal she would—even if she had a choice in the matter. As soon as he took his leave, Hermione took a deep breath and followed him. She had never put her needs ahead of Nathan’s, and she wouldn’t start now. 

“Severus!” she called, her voice carrying in the dungeons corridors, where she got close enough to make herself be heard without shouting. “Severus, wait!”

He didn’t stop, but to his credit, he did slow his pace down so she would catch up with him.

“I’d like a word, if you please. About Nathan,” she added, not wanting to be misinterpreted or ridiculed without reason. She was done with his insults and humiliations—her heart was in full agreement with the resolve.

“What will it be now? Too few father and son moments for your liking? Do you want to demand that I tell him bedtime stories now, while I tuck him in every night? I sure have many stories I could tell him… How about the details of my miserable childhood, so he might feel better about his?”

Hermione could only stare. The man’s face was red after the outburst, his eyes glaring daggers at her. 

“What?” he barked. 

Hermione looked around at a group of students that had stopped to watch their exchange on their way back to their common room. _There goes the humiliation resolution_ , she thought annoyed.

“Maybe we should take this conversation elsewhere,” she suggested. He didn’t respond, but stalked towards his office.

She sighed and shook her head before following. By the time she was closing the door behind her, Hermione was still at a loss of how best to deal with Severus in such an explosive mood. When he finally took the chair behind his desk, Hermione felt it was safe to ask, “What was that all about?”

He didn’t answer right away, and Hermione took that as a sign that he was at least fighting to stay in control of his temper. She decided it was in her best interest to give him time before having her say. She took a chair across from him and waited, and it didn’t take long, after all. But when he decided to talk, it wasn’t to answer her.

“What about Nathan?” he asked.

Hermione took her time studying his eyes before answering. Severus was out of sorts, which was all too obvious, but was that resignation that she saw? 

“Did you have a disagreement? Because it seemed to me that he was avoiding talking about you this afternoon, and after what just happened in the hallway…” She left at that. Hermione wasn’t fishing for apologies or anything, although she thought she deserved one; priorities had her needing to understand where all that had come from, though. 

Maybe it was her and not Nathan causing his show of temper. Too bad for him, if that was the case, because she wasn’t going anywhere until she made it clear that they would still have to discuss their son on a regular basis, whether he liked or not. Nathan would not be affected by her bruised heart.

“I’m not a Seer, Granger. I don’t know why your son hasn’t told you all the details you wanted to hear about the last two wonderful weeks of his life. I don’t live inside his head to know what he could have been thinking not to.” He glared at her, but she was immune to his pettiness. “If that was all you wanted from me, Granger, you know where the door is,” he added in an even voice.

Hermione frowned at that. No, not at the implied criticism to her dealings with Nathan, nor at the dry dismissal, it was the lack of bite that made her pause. First an explosion of temper in the middle of the corridor, then that odd aura of resignation, and now this….

He seemed tired, now that she allowed herself to take in his physical presence. 

“You don’t seem well, Severus. Are you sick?” she asked, and regretted the words instantly after they’d left her mouth. “You don’t have to answer, of course. That’s none of my business. Well, if you don’t know why your son has something about you to hide from me, that’s fine, too. It’ll only take me longer to make him talk so I can start working on helping him with whatever is bothering him. I certainly hope it’ll be before he hurts himself with another curse or something, but these worries were obviously not on your mind right now.” She hadn’t intended to go there, but now that she had, she couldn’t stop her resentment from seeping through her words. “It wouldn’t bode well for your free time or evening appointments, would it? To have to deal with your son if he got himself into the Hospital Wing again so soon would be such a burden….” She made a horrified face to add force to her sarcasm. “We certainly wouldn’t want that. Poor you!” she finished.

“Your son is a dreamer, and if that takes him to the Hospital Wing, I might be already there, because if there’s anything making me sick, that’s what. Well, maybe he’s not to blame, after being raised by _you_ and being obliged to listen to all sorts of delusional crap.”

So his problem was definitely with her and not Nathan. Well, she wouldn’t be staying for any of _his_ crap! She stood, then.

“Well, not very helpful, but enough all the same. Good evening, Severus. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner, hopefully not before.”

Hermione quickly exited, not giving a dry Shrivelfig for the man’s growl. Decidedly, her time away was paying off. She had no qualms in putting the wizard to his place, the rude git.

Even though deep down she was still disappointed—and worried—that she got away with only a growl.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan rubbed his stiff neck. Watching Quidditch practice wasn’t his idea of a fun Sunday morning.

“Wow!” exclaimed Andy. “Did you see that?”

“Yeah, it was the Potter Twist all right!” Kevin answered enthusiastically.

“Potter Twist?” Nathan questioned.

“Didn’t you think so? The last couple of turns were a bit too wide, but then again, only Harry Potter can pull that one out without losing any altitude.”

Nathan was frowning. He didn’t know what a Potter Twist was, and it annoyed him that it seemed to be some sort of broom maneuver his godfather had invented, and one he had never heard of before, no less. One might think his godfather would have told him all about it. Nathan would have wanted to know beforehand, so he wouldn’t feel as if he were a hermit or something. There were things a godson should know! 

“Snape can fly without a broom.” 

Nathan froze as soon as the words left him. 

His two best friends were staring at him then, of course, and Nathan had no idea where that had come from. He hadn’t intended to say anything, least of all something like that, something about Snape. He hadn’t even been thinking about Snape! 

Had he?

His friends were still staring. _Stupid! Stupid!_ he quiet berated himself. 

“Er… Anyway, it’s cold out here,” Nathan managed awkwardly. “I’m going inside now. I’ll see you guys later.” He hurried away, never turning back and still feeling at odds with himself. 

_What the hell?_

His mind was playing tricks on him, it seemed; that was the only explanation. He hadn’t been thinking about his father at all! 

Nathan was getting sick of this… this… minding. He wanted a break! He wanted a break from thinking about Snape; Nathan didn’t want to think, period.

He sighed, and his urgent stalking slowed down to subdued steps. Maybe he could shut down his brain with magic, use his wand to turn it on and off at leisure…. Where should he be headed for, then? The library?

Yes, it seemed right. In the library he would find information of such a spell. He would cast it on himself and be free….

Nathan stopped in the middle of the corridor, alarmed, a sense of déjà vu tingling all over. He shivered and pulled his robes more tightly around himself. It was happening again. He was going to curse himself and end up in the Hospital Wing, helpless. 

No….

Not the library, then. Where to go, though? Not the dungeons, of course, even if that was where his mother surely was. But his father was in the dungeons, wasn’t he? Maybe even in the lab with his mum. 

_Crap! I’m thinking of him again!_ Nathan groaned. He didn’t want to think about the infuriating wizard who had surely forgotten all about him already. His dad had given up on him, he knew it. He would never take control over Professor Snape, The Git. Nathan didn’t remember his dreams when he woke up anymore. He’d taken the fact as a sign. His dad had given up. 

_How do I stop my brain?_ Nathan groaned again.

He was walking aimlessly, now, simply moving his feet and hoping his brain would stop torturing him. What did his mother do when she was anxious and didn’t want him to know? Ah, yes. She breathed deeply, changed the path of any conversation they were having and started doing something completely different from what she had been doing up to the moment, to focus on something else entirely. 

_That’s it!_

Nathan smiled. He knew exactly where to go and what to do.

_Thanks, Mum._

~o0oOo0o~

“What are you doing up here?”

“Hi, Mum.” Nathan smiled lazily at her. “I’m watching the grounds.”

Hermione took in the view beyond the window her son was perched on the sill of. The day was surprisingly sunny, the sky a pastel rue of blue with very few clouds in it. 

“You should be outside on such a beautiful day, honey,” she pointed out. “Where are your friends?”

“I was with them at the Quidditch Pitch a while ago,” he answered. “But I can’t see the village from the grounds,” he added. “What’s that building there? The one with five chimneys?” 

Hermione sat sideways on the sill, this way facing Nathan, to search the view ahead for the one building her son was asking about. “I believe it’s the apothecary.” She could see the whole village from this window. The tiny houses surrounded by the whitened Forbidden Forest had most of their chimneys smoking and were beautiful from up here. The train station was half in sight, even. It was a view worthy of a postcard, she thought.

“I thought it might be a Floo Central or something,” Nathan said. 

“There isn’t a Floo Central in Hogsmeade. People come through The Three Broomsticks if needed, but Apparating is how most wizards and witches travel.”

“We arrive by train.”

Hermione nodded. “Children don’t learn how to Apparate until they’re of age, and to Floo all of you through The Three Broomsticks would be impractical, to say the least,” she reasoned. 

A grunt was her response before the conversation was taken over by companionable silence. 

“What has you here watching the grounds?” she wanted to know. It was pleasant up here, but Hermione didn’t think Nathan would prefer peace and quiet over games and, God forbid, _adventures_. No twelve-years-old boy would, unless there was something wrong, and Hermione was hoping he had a better, healthier reason to be up here.

“I’m making a map,” he told her. 

“A map?” Hermione was relieved by the answer, but only until she remembered the map Harry had inherited and the amount of mischief involved in its use. “What sort of map?” she asked, then.

“A map of the village. I was trying to guess what each of the buildings was for by the look of them.”

Hermione frowned in confusion. 

Nathan shrugged. “There aren’t video-games in the wizarding world,” he justified and then tried a smile.

Hermione smiled back, but was far from satisfied with his answer. Nathan returned his attention to the grounds ahead, and Hermione did the same. It was when an owl passed by on its way to the owlery that a thought crossed her mind.

“Would you like to visit the village?” she asked Nathan.

“Can I?” he brightly asked. 

Hermione was pleased by the light in his eyes. She smiled, this time more genuinely. “Yes, if I take you.”

“And you’ll take me, won’t you?” He was on his feet in a swift move. “We can go to Honeydukes, then the bookshop, then Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and then—”

“Easy, easy,” Hermione interrupted, laughing. “We’ll visit whatever we can before dinnertime. We can eat in The Three Broomsticks then, if you’d like.”

Nathan was frowning.

“What’s the matter?” she inquired.

“It’s Sunday,” was his short answer, and Hermione understood all it comprised.

“We’ll invite your father to come with us, if that’s your worry.” The prospect of that didn’t seem to appease Nathan, though. She wasn’t looking forward to an outing with Severus in tow, either, but she had good reasons for that. Nathan’s reasons were what worried her. Why wouldn’t he want to spend time with Severus? Before she could ask, he spoke again: 

“I need more quills. Can we buy them in Hogsmeade?”

“Sure.” She regarded him for another moment, then decided to hold her questions for a while longer. “Lunch first, though. Come on, let’s get to the Great Hall.”

~o0oOo0o~

“I’m not having dinner in Hogsmeade,” Severus protested again.

“Then you can dine alone, because I’m taking Nathan to Hogsmeade, and we’ll have dinner in The Three Broomsticks, whether you come or not,” the impertinent witch told him. She was enjoying this; he could see her joy all over her infuriating face.

“Nathan is a first-year, for Merlin’s sake. What an asinine idea—a Hogsmeade weekend for a first-year. He already thinks he’s above the school rules, he hardly needs your encouragement.” 

“I’m not encouraging anything. What’s your problem, Snape? Are you ashamed of being seen in the village with us, is that it? Because I’m not taking you at wand point, so refuse the _invitation_ so I can take my son and be off, if you please.”

 _I don’t want to expose Nathan to ridicule, you impossible woman_ , he answered her mentally. “My problem is having a son who is a rule-breaker,” he told her, though, which was also true.

“We’re not breaking any school rule, Severus, and Nathan knows it’s a special privilege, that we won’t be taking him out every weekend.” She stopped speaking and eyed him for a moment before sighing. “He needs the break, Severus. I found him all alone this morning. He’s trying to alienate himself again, and I won’t just stand watching while he succeeds.”

That piece of news worried Severus. But if a distraction was what Nathan needed, there were alternatives which wouldn’t involve a trip outside the castle.

“Go play in the library, then, or in the lab; you can have it for yourself this afternoon.”

“I just said we were going to Hogsmeade.”

_Stubborn Gryffindors…_

“What do you expect to gain with that?”

“Some quality time with Nathan— _for_ Nathan—and I’m inviting you—for _him_.”

Severus drank the last of the juice in his goblet, shaking his head and thinking that there would be no quality in Nathan’s time in Hogsmeade. Where they went, there would be eyes on them, all judges of a boy already condemned by association. Should he go, eyes could turn quickly into insulting words, which would taint his son’s happiness as surely as his goblet would be refilled when it hit the table?

“Well, you know where we’ll be,” Granger said, interrupting his musings. She stood to go, and Nathan’s fate was sealed. “Have a nice day, Severus.”

Severus placed his goblet in front of his plate, and it refilled instantly.

~o0oOo0o~

“How many of these, Mum?” Nathan was asking. 

“What is it?” Hermione had been too distracted thinking about what the hell was on Severus’ mind. She’d just seen him go down the street not five minutes ago, and now he was just standing there, pretending that his attention was on the books on display at the bookshop across the street. “Oh, five is enough.” 

Nathan collected five candies from the jar and added to their bag. He didn’t seem to have noticed his father’s antics. Hermione had the urge to go out there and demand he act like a grown man, but just thinking about confronting him in the middle of Hogsmeade’s main street, knowing he would be his infuriating self, made her sigh in frustration. 

“Five of these, too,” Nathan said, reaching for Chocolate Frogs.

“Only two of those, Nathan,” she corrected him before this trip to Hogsmeade became a prelude to a visit to her parents’ dental practice.

Why couldn’t Severus just join them, for Christ’s sake? Should he loom in the shadows like an overgrown bat? 

“You have enough candy for a lifetime, Nathan,” she told her son before he reached for anything else.

“One sugar quill? I’ve never had one before…” he asked.

“Fine, one sugar quill.” 

He took it and placed in their bag, smiling at his triumph, the little smug copy of his Slytherin father. 

“Two Galleons and five Sickles,” the clerk announced.

Hermione paid for their purchase and left Honeydukes, Nathan slightly ahead of her, running straight for the bookshop across the street. 

Severus was nowhere to be seen. 

Hermione tried to act as if she didn’t know he was around, crossing the street like she hadn’t a worry in the world, but all the while wanting to stop in the middle of the street and call for him to show himself.

She didn’t, of course; she had more control than he granted her. Hermione entered the bookshop, instead, and caught up with Nathan. The look of delight on his face made her annoyance recede a little. It had been a good idea to take Nathan out of the castle, away from his worries, even if only for a few hours.

“Look, they have books about pumpkin juice,” he commented and sniggered. Hermione smiled at him. Nathan soon moved for other shelves and got absorbed by the new options in literature available for wizards.

Severus should have been here to see this, to share these unique moments with them. Hermione’s annoyance at the man came back with force, just thinking that Severus was in Hogsmeade, playing hide and seek instead of facing them like a man.

She was walking along the shelves, touching the spines of the books and reading a title here and there, all the while keeping her eyes on Nathan, who seemed to be doing a more detailed account of the shelves’ contents at the opposite side of the long room, up a short flight of stairs.

Why was Severus so incapable of taking part? His part, for that matter. He could have been up there with his son, commenting on the titles and their relative quality and relevance—or lack of, as might probably have been the case. They could have been having the time of their lives here together. But no, Severus had to be stubborn and pass this opportunity on the basis of… what exactly? Stupid school rules? Oh, please! Only if the school had a new rule for shame, because that was it, wasn’t that? He was ashamed of being seen with them.

“Take him away from the advanced books.”

Hermione held a yelp, turning startled on her heels to come face to face with the very wizard of her angry thoughts. She had her wand out—a reflex—and almost gave free rein to the hex that had formed in her throat. Collecting herself, she answered, “Go there and take him yourself.”

He had the gall to look displeased with her suggestion.

“Oh, that’s right, you can’t, because you’re playing hide and seek,” she added sarcastically.

“Leave him there, then. But don’t come to me when he tries advanced spells unsupervised and gets himself in a hospital bed again.”

She rolled her eyes. “Severus—”

“Mum.” She turned towards her son’s call, and when she turned back, Severus was gone. Hermione’s fists closed in a gesture to attempt to quell her frustration with the man.

“I want this book,” Nathan, now beside her, stated. 

She took the book from him to analyze it and took her time reading the table of contents while she fought the urge to explode and curse Severus aloud. When she looked up, she found Nathan distracted by the charmed books displayed inside a magical bubble used to restrain them.

Hermione startled again when a book floated in front of her face. It was a Potions book.

“It’s already paid for,” came in the velvet voice of that unbelievable man.

“This is ridiculous!” she hissed. She looked around, trying to see him so she could tell him what she thought of this stupid game he was playing, but he wasn’t visible. “Stop this nonsense right now!”

No answer. Hermione growled low and headed for the clerk. She paid for the book Nathan had chosen and found that the other one was, indeed, already paid for. 

“Let’s go, Nathan,” she called her son, who was still observing the enchanted books. “We have another shop to visit before dinner.”

They left the bookshop and went, in fact, to two more shops: the stationer’s for quills and parchment and Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes for mischief. 

If Severus was in those places watching them, he didn’t make his presence known, not even when Hermione permitted Nathan to have one of those noisy crackers. Well, all the better. If he didn’t want to be part of their day out, he should leave them well alone.

So it was with renewed frustration that Hermione was greeted by the sight of Severus Snape at a small table in The Three Broomsticks, tapping his fingers in succession on the tabletop, looking otherwise completely uninterested in the world around him. While not surprising, his presence there was unexpected. She’d taken his silence after their brief exchange in the bookshop as a sign of his departure back to Hogwarts.

“Oh, look who decided to make an _appearance_!” Hermione told him, unable to hold back her irritation.

“You’re late,” was his answer. 

“I don’t remember setting a time,” she retorted. 

He glared at her as if she was in the wrong and then took out some of the bite off of his eyes to look at their son.

“Hi,” Nathan greeted after no one else said anything. Severus inclined his head, and Hermione sighed, resigned to abide for Nathan’s sake. 

They took seats across from the man.

“I’ve already ordered; I hope you don’t mind,” Severus announced.

Hermione minded, but she kept it to herself for Nathan’s sake.

This evening would be taking a turn for the worse if she had to bring Nathan’s sake in everything she said or did. Hermione decided then that it was better to forget what had happened so far in the day and start this dinner as she did any other.

“What are we having?” she asked, painting her voice with calm and polite interest.

“Sausage and mash. Butterbeer for you, wine for me. I can’t recommend any dessert made here, so I ordered none. Why are we eating here again?”

 _Charming_ , Hermione thought, counting to ten to refrain from answering back.

Thankfully, their hostess decided to approach the table at that very moment. 

“I see that your company arrived, Professor!” Madam Rosmerta stated, seeming delighted. Hermione knew she was more curious than delighted, though. “Oh, dear Hermione Granger! How lovely to see you!” Rosmerta greeted, feigning surprise at seeing who Severus’ company was for the evening. The hostess busied herself placing plates, silverware and goblets for the three of them. “And who’s this young one? Is he your boy, Severus?” She kept waiting for an introduction.

One which Hermione knew Severus wouldn’t be providing.

“This is Nathan, Madam Rosmerta,” Hermione told her.

“Oh, hello, little Nathan.” Rosmerta gave Nathan a toothy smile a grandmother might reserve for toddlers, to which she got an arched eyebrow from the boy and furrowed ones from the man across from him. Rosmerta chuckled, with her tray supported by her hips. “Quite a remarkable mix of both your parents, you are! Your food will be here in no time. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

“What was that all about?” Nathan asked after the woman had turned and gone about her business. 

“Interfering gossipmonger,” Severus mumbled irritated.

“She was curious to meet you, that’s all,” Hermione answered nonchalantly. She didn’t want Nathan to be uncomfortable with the attention they were gathering. She had almost forgotten how oppressive it could feel to be the center of attention in a public place.

“Your mother here is a war hero, the _brain_ of the Golden Trio, who’s disappeared for twelve years and then came back with you. The whole room is staring at us,” Severus said, ruining everything.

Nathan looked around, self-conscious. Hermione glared at Severus.

“Dinning in The Three Broomsticks. What an enlightened idea!” he answered to her glare in dripping sarcasm. 

Their drinks arrived, then, giving Hermione something not mortal to do with her hands. Nathan was taking a sudden interest in their shopping bags.

This is not going as she had planned. The last thing Hermione had wanted was stress and conversation laced with sharp-ended words. She took a swig of her Butterbeer and renewed her patience to take a try for a normal conversation. 

“I didn’t see you buying this Potions book, Mum.” Nathan saved her the trouble. “ _Preparing Ingredients for Potions_ …” Nathan hummed, opening the book with interest. 

Hermione glanced Severus’ way. He was pretending not to watch Nathan, nursing the goblet of wine and looking bored. 

“The book is for you,” Hermione told Nathan.

“Really?” he asked brightly, smiling at her. “Thanks, Mum.”

“Oh, no need to thank me.” Hermione saw the goblet stop in Severus’ hand and knew he was waiting for her next words. “Thank your father. It’s his gift.”

“You bought a Potions book for me?” Nathan asked Severus.

The man rested the goblet on the table and seemed for all the world as if he wasn’t part of the conversation going on. “You seem interested in potion-making, and since your mother gave you free access to her project, I thought you should as well learn the preparation of ingredients properly,” he said, and Hermione could see how it was costing him to say as much without the usual bite. 

_Interesting turn of events,_ she thought.

“I like it. Thank you,” Nathan told him with some restraint, but Hermione, watching his face closely, could see that there was more behind the polite answer.

Severus inclined his head in a curt nod of acknowledgment, hiding his discomfort behind his curtains of hair, as he was prone to do. As infuriating as this wizard could be, he had his heart in all the right places, and that was incredibly hard to ignore at that moment. Hermione wanted to smile at him and tell him that it was all right to feel joy at earning points with Nathan. She wanted and wanted to….

But she couldn’t. What she wanted was not appreciated; she had to stop loving him. How hard it was to stop loving him, though, to stop wanting things she would never get. 

Maybe she should settle for feeling happy for him. There seemed to be no harm in that, feeling happy. Why was it so hard?

Nathan placed the book in front of her. “Look,” he asked her. “It has moving pictures with the instructions.” He beamed. 

“Oh, very helpful!” She tried to show enthusiasm. It shouldn’t be difficult, feeling enthusiastic. “It is a very thoughtful gift.” 

Nathan didn’t answer in words, but his smile was quite enough for her. One simple gesture from Severus was all it took to make their boy smile again, and Severus thought he needed more to be a father? 

Severus was holding his goblet and observing her, she realized. She couldn’t smile at him, because that would unleash that hurtful beast of his defenses right back at her and ruin the moment. She couldn’t thank him, because that would make him close into himself and ruin the moment. She couldn’t reach for his hand. She couldn’t show that she loved him. She _shouldn’t_ love him.

But she could hold his eyes with hers while she pulled Nathan close into a half-hug and kissed the top of their son’s head, and hopefully, Severus would feel included. 

“Mum!” Nathan protested, making Hermione smile, and she could swear that Severus’ lips twitched to suppress his own reaction.

Their dinner chose that moment to arrive, bringing Hermione back to herself, and she fought to keep her feelings at bay. The evening took a turn for the better after that. They ate to Nathan’s enthusiastic comments about potions ingredients, intervened by Severus’ observations here and there, and her own opinions on occasion. It was so hard not to revel in these moments of compliancy…. It was like they had been doing this—being a family—for ages, and it indeed felt natural… right. As if Severus laying down his silverware and answering Nathan’s curious questions had been happening in Hermione’s dining table for every meal. As if afterwards they would be adjourning to the living room, where she would read while her men played a game of wizard’s chess, as they were wont to do most evenings. And later, when she’d tucked Nathan in for the night, Hermione would go back and find Severus on the couch, two goblets of wine in his hands, looking intently at her.

Hermione was staring at Severus’ hand holding the mostly empty goblet of wine when reality hit her. She looked up to find him looking at her, but not like in her daydream, although he wasn’t glaring or sneering, either. It was just… eyes on her, until they slipped away.

“Are you finished?” she asked Nathan.

“Yes,” her son answered.

She looked at Severus, and he nodded. Hermione didn’t want the evening to end, but it had to. She knew it had to. “We should head back before it gets too late,” she suggested, and they prepared to leave.

They walked back to the castle together, all seeming content in the company of the others, none hurrying the pace to get faster away from the chilly winter breeze. They weren’t cold, after all. This was far from cold.

Climbing the stairs to the entrance of castle, Nathan suddenly stopped and turned to face Hermione. “You didn’t take me to the apothecary.”

“We can go there some other time,” she told him. “Now, get inside. It’s too windy to stay outdoors.”

Inside, the chill seemed to catch up with them, and the awkward silence that had settled was finally chased away when Severus cleared his throat. His soft voice wasn’t warm, but neither was it cold, when he asked, “I presume you’re walking him to Gryffindor?” 

What had her foolish heart been expecting, for her chest to constrict like that? Stupid thing! “Yes, sure,” she managed.

He nodded, addressing Nathan next. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nathan.” He nodded again, and his robes followed him towards the dungeons’ stairs. 

Severus was almost there when Nathan decided to reply. “Good night, Dad.”

Hermione’s mouth opened slightly, and not only air filled her chest at that moment, but also joy and hope. Severus had stopped at the top of the stairs when Nathan had called to him. After a moment of simply standing there, Severus half-turned and nodded, a motion too quick for Hermione to be able to gauge the feelings behind those expressive eyes before he swept down into the darkness.

Hermione embraced Nathan’s shoulders, squeezing him close to her side in appreciation for his courage and determination. She led him up the stairs, hoping this was more than a truce between them all. Hoping this was the right beginning they’d missed months earlier.

~o0oOo0o~

Ordering wine had been a regrettable idea. His headache had receded, as Severus had hoped it would, but on the other hand, the relaxing effect wine always had on him had backfired dangerously. 

He couldn’t make himself mind too much where Nathan was concerned. He had been called Dad again, deliberately, and now, reclined on his armchair, enjoying the warmth emanating from the hearth, Severus could smile and feed this odd feeling of triumph. Yes, tomorrow will get them back to where they were before the wine, but tomorrow would wait. Right now, Severus was Nathan’s dad and was taking pleasure in every minute of it. 

Nathan was fun and smart. _Of course,_ Severus thought smugly, _he’s my son._ Severus kept smiling and reliving the fine points of the evening, the many smiles his boy had gave him, the admiring attention that had shined from Nathan’s eyes. Severus smiled contented, yes, he actually did. Being a dad was delightful, he could definitely get used to the feeling; a pity it wouldn’t be wise in the least. 

A pity, indeed.

But for tonight, Severus would indulge. Actually, being a dad called for more wine than he’d had at dinner, so he Summoned a goblet and a bottle from his private storage. He filled the goblet and toasted himself, smirking. Severus was celebrating.

And since he was indulging in frivolous whims, he wouldn’t ignore the boy’s mother, either. Oh, yes, he’d noticed her watching him more often than not, even after what he’d told her more than once. She should know better. But if tonight was about forgetting tomorrow, he would admit that Hermione Granger’s attention was good for the ego. If her Muggle wasn’t man enough to meet her needs, she was welcome to want him. After all, she had delicious lips. And compelling eyes. And delicate hands. And a lusciously curved body—nice breasts, round ass. A pity she was Hermione fucking Granger, or there would be fucking of another nature. 

Oh, he could be depraved and want her for tonight. Yes, he was a depraved bastard, and maybe he should go back out to treat his desires with some easy-to-get woman, like he’d done in the past. He wanted Hermione perfect-lips Granger, though, not those soulless women walking the streets of Knockturn Alley at this time on a Sunday, and for that he should burn in hell. He’d be damned, but he wanted those adoring eyes shining with desire while he had her again and again.

Severus took all the wine left in the goblet, rolling the liquid around in his mouth, tasting it with pleasure. It wasn’t her taste, but it would do. Tonight he was giving his mind a reprieve, and if it wanted her mouth to taste of wine, that was how her mouth tasted. 

He needed more wine, then.

Well into his third full goblet, Severus hummed and then laughed darkly at the state his devilish mind was leaving his body in. “Randy bastard,” he said, looking down his lap, and then took a shaking, deep breath, making his mind. “We’re indulging tonight, old chap.” He finished the goblet in one gulp and stood. When he ascertained himself that everything remained stationary, he walked to his bedroom, languidly working the buttons of his shirt as he went.

He eyed his bed and imagined Hermione climbing on all fours, shaking that delicious ass for him. Severus pulled his shirt off and made easy work of his trousers, his eyes fluttering closed when he stroked his cock slowly. How would her hand feel around him? “Hmmm.” How would her _mouth_ feel around him? Severus groaned as he closed his fist and squeezed the head of his erection. 

He got rid of the rest of his clothes and followed his imaginary Hermione into bed. Severus closed his eyes again the best to _see_ , helped by the alcohol, and made his hand mimic what he saw Hermione’s mouth doing… slowly, thoroughly, cupping his balls and pulling. Without much notice, the caresses became rougher, faster, but they soon slowed down as his mind provided a tongue flicking maliciously over the engorged head while brown eyes looked past his chest and into his own dark ones with mischief in mind. 

He wanted to have her, and she begged him to take her.

He fisted himself, and she moaned his name. He stroked faster, and Hermione’s curls jumped in time with the jiggle of her breasts. Then faster, harder, his breath hitching, until they came together—he in his hand and she in his sated mind.

Because tonight Severus Snape was forgetting the past, not worrying about the future, and simply giving up and joining her in insanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, dear Severus is a bit unstable and unreliable—at least to his high standards, because I see nothing wrong with letting some good feelings flow freely. *lol*
> 
>  **Coming next…** Nathan helps Severus learn a few things about reality and dreams, and Severus’ life is forever changed.


	31. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan helps Severus learn a few things about reality and dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

A mild Whiz-Bang went out in the dormitory, and boys jumped from their beds like the world was ending.

Nathan was laughing so hard that none of them had any doubt about who had planted the Bang, waking them all up.

“Not funny,” Andy mumbled when he passed by his grinning friend on the way to the bathroom.

“That’s because you didn’t see your faces,” Nathan retorted, laughing at the memory. “A blast!” He laughed.

“A blast will be you wearing pink hair for a week after I hex you,” Kevin threatened, glaring from his bed.

Nathan smirked, knowing Kevin was bluffing. Nothing could destroy Nathan’s good mood this morning, not even having his hair turned pink in retaliation for this prank. Seeing his dad the day before had lifted his spirit, brought back his hope. Now he knew that not even Professor Snape could hide his true self all the time. Yesterday in Hogsmeade, his dad had surfaced many times. It had been subtle, not at all evident at first, but by the end of the evening, Nathan had been sure that he had spent it with his dad instead of the rigid professor. 

His father had given him a gift! A book! Nothing could refute what that meant, and not even the return of the cold Professor Snape would dampen Nathan’s good mood this morning.

Nathan was sure that he’d have his dad sooner or later, and he had decided that he was going to help the soul of the man find its outlet, so it would be sooner rather than later. Nathan had a new purpose this morning, one he would see through not only today, but until he was successful. He would not abandon his dreams; he would not.

“I’m going to check something out in the library. I’ll see you guys in the Great Hall,” he announced, taking his book bag and marching out into his new battle field in this war against unhappiness. 

“I’d watch my back if I were you!” Kevin called after him.

Nathan laughed again; he couldn’t help it!

~o0oOo0o~

Punctually, Severus closed the classroom door with a flick of his wand. He’d been tending to his paperwork since early morning, and he didn’t feel like interrupting his work to greet the first-years—the fact that Nathan was one of them had nothing to do with his feelings. 

Severus rolled his eyes at himself. 

“Turn to page two hundred and forty-six. Follow the instructions.” He glared at the students to make it patently clear that he wasn’t in a good mood and they shouldn’t cross him, then he met Nathan’s soft smile.

It broadened when their eyes met.

A pang stressed Severus’ heart, guilt pulling at it on all directions. The longing Severus had felt for this dream life was still there, begging him to indulge.

Again.

He didn’t smile back, but he couldn’t find it in himself to reproach Nathan, either. Severus simply went back to his paperwork, mostly work he would have completed the day before had Hermione not been so determined to turn his life upside down. It would take him three times longer than usual to get through all these essays in the classroom full of cauldrons simmering with Merlin knew what the minds of these dunderheads would conjure today.

When the first cauldrons started heating, Severus was forced to leave his desk to supervise the brews. Why was he still teaching?

Why was he questioning himself?

It was Hermione and those fucking dreams! Her dreams, not his. He didn’t dare dream or think about how the deities of the universe decided to run his pitiful life. It wasn’t his; it had never been, and he had learned not to cling to it. It was most definitely not hers, either, so why was she meddling with a life as damned as his? Hadn’t he lost enough? Should he lose his sanity, too? Because the kind of indulgence he had surrendered himself to the night before would probably make him lose the thin shred of control he still had of his life: his mind. 

Cauldrons.

He took a disfigured piece of salamander tail from Miss Peterson’s cutting board. “Is this a cube, Miss Peterson?” 

“Er…. Maybe?”

 _Why even bother?_ Severus thought. But for his sanity, he sneered anyway, “If this was a cube, Miss Peterson, you wouldn’t be about to explode your cauldron, you dunderhead!” _When will these stupid children learn to listen to me?_ He flicked his wand and vanished the destroyed ingredient. “Five points from Gryffindor. Start over!”

That was much more himself.

Severus took a few more points on his way around his classroom, and then he reached Nathan’s workbench. Neat, organized, clean; the exactly measured amount of water was starting to boil inside the cauldron, and the salamander tale was already dextrally chopped in… 

“Why is that salamander tale chopped diagonally instead of in cubes, Mr. Granger?” 

“I happen to know that that’s how its properties will be mostly retained. It’ll make it easier for the lionfish spine to dissolve when I add it later.” 

_Smarty pants_ , Severus thought, no malice in it. Severus wasn’t supposed to be dreaming awake, sober as he was. So, he shouldn’t need to fight the urge to answer the easy smile this beautiful boy was giving him. He couldn’t take it, accept this gift. Severus couldn’t have such a wonderful son…. He could hear the gods’ ire damning him for daring. 

Yet, here he was, dreaming of daring. 

Her dreams? 

Their son had gone back to work and was grinding lionfish spine while Severus still stood there, losing his mind. He couldn’t lose his mind, he just couldn’t!

So he held on to it, not daring to look Nathan’s way until the class was over and the boy gone.

Until he met his son again.

Or his son’s mother.

_Nightmares!_

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan sat, surrounded by books and more books, at a far table in the library. They were books on his new obsession: dreams. He was determined to find a way to help his father connect to his soul, to be more like that man inside him. But since Nathan had started his research, he hadn’t found anything that would help in this endeavor. He had the impression that these were the last books there were on the subject in the whole of Hogwarts library, and this was a worrisome thought, because he still hadn’t found what he’d been looking for—no spell, no potion, nothing.

In fact, he knew there had to be more books about dreams, but he was avoiding the Restricted Section like the plague and wouldn’t go in there if he had any other option.

Any other.

Although, if he hadn’t…. Well, he would have to get back in there, wouldn’t he? There was no other way around it.

Unless he could think of something else, and he was trying.

Nathan needed help, and he thought he knew who might have some answers. If he left now, he would have enough time to find the wizard before dinner. He closed the last book and packed his things, leaving the library in haste. 

Two floors up and many corridors later, Nathan found himself knocking on the office’s door. 

“Come in,” a high voice called.

“Good afternoon, Professor Flitwick,” Nathan greeted. 

“Mr. Granger? What a surprise!” The short professor left his desk and came to meet Nathan personally. “Your wand work is so neat that I hadn’t expected you to need me during office hours.”

“Thank you, sir.” Nathan smiled politely at the compliment. The Charms professor had always regarded Nathan with great esteem, and it only became more evident after his relation to Professor Snape was made public. “Actually, sir,” Nathan started, “my visit doesn’t have much to do with this week’s assignment.” 

“No?” The tone was of curiosity and not reproach, Nathan noticed. 

“No, sir. I’ve been doing some extra research on dreams, but I’ve read everything available in the library on the subject, and I still couldn’t find what I was looking for. I was hoping you would be able to help me.”

“Dreams…. What sort of information are you looking for?” the professor inquired, disappearing behind his desk and reappearing on a dais to access a bookshelf. He pointed at the chair across the desk, and Nathan took it.

“I’m looking for a spell or charm to make someone remember their dreams when they’re awake.” 

“Hm.”

Professor Flitwick was searching his books and probably trying to remember any that would contain such spell. Nathan waited expectantly for his professor’s search. If such a spell was available, his problems were solved! Professor Snape would remember how nice he could be, and Nathan would have his dad all the time.

“Dreams were never an interest of mine, Mr. Granger.” Professor Flitwick turned to another shelf of books, still searching. 

That wasn’t what Nathan wanted to hear, and he scanned the room, unconsciously trying to help in the search. His eyes were caught by a chess board with a game ongoing. He analyzed the game; the whites were in big trouble.

“Do you play?” the professor asked, now back at his desk.

“Yes,” Nathan answered. “Are you playing the blacks, sir?”

“Alas, I’m afraid I have to admit to be leading the whites to their doom.” The Head of Ravenclaw House chuckled. “You father is always the blacks.”

“Professor Snape?” Nathan asked surprised.

“He’s a great player. I only met one other like him: Albus Dumbledore.” The professor had a faraway look on his face. 

“Anyway,” he snapped into the present once more, “dreams are more of a Divination subject, I’m afraid, and Divination was never my field of expertise…” the professor continued. “I don’t have any books on the subject here. Was there a reason why you wanted to remember your dreams?”

“No, it isn’t for me.” Nathan couldn’t say who it was for, so he simply went for something vague…. “It’s for a friend. We were just talking about it the other day, and it made me wonder if it would be possible.”

Professor Flitwick smiled. “A curious subject, indeed,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to satiate your curious needs. Perhaps Professor Trelawney would be of more help?” he suggested.

“The Divination teacher?” Nathan confirmed.

“Yes, yes. Dreams are even in her curriculum, if I’m not mistaken, and she would be the specialist, in any case.”

“Oh.” Nathan frowned. Divination was one of the fields Nathan had always frowned upon. It didn’t seem very magical to him, and although he believed in prophecies, there wasn’t much more he could say about the accuracy of the other Divination arts. “Thanks anyway, sir.” Nathan rose to leave.

“I wish I could have been of more help. Come back for a tea if you find anything interesting to share.” The professor smiled again.

Nathan left soon after, thinking that it couldn’t hurt to listen to what the Divination teacher had to say and very intrigued by the chess board of the ongoing match between his father and Professor Flitwick.

~o0oOo0o~

“Enter.”

His father was at his desk, as usual. It seemed that Wednesdays were for research on Professor Snape’s schedule, since there was always a book and note-taking involved when Nathan arrived for tea.

“Hello,” he greeted, taking a seat to wait for their time to leave for his father’s quarters. 

“You’re early,” his father noted, closing the book and adding a few more lines on the parchment before him.

“I can wait until you finish.”

His father didn’t answer, but soon he rolled the parchment and placed it with a few others on shelf behind him. “Any reason for the haste?” the man asked, waiting beside the desk for Nathan to get up and follow him.

“No.” Nathan shrugged.

His father’s eyes were heavy on him for a brief time. “Come, then,” he finally beckoned.

It was difficult not to look at his father and remember what a great time they'd had in Hogsmeade, and yet, Nathan knew he couldn’t assume what tonight would bring, based on that evening. 

The chess set on Professor Flitwick’s office was somehow contributing to heighten Nathan’s hopes, and he didn’t know why that was.

The living room they entered was unchanged. They took their now customary seats by the fireplace. Tea was served.

What was this hopeful feeling still feeding him and making him expectant? Where was it coming from? Why was it lingering for no apparent reason? Nathan had no idea.

The conversation sailed on the familiar waters of magic theory, books, potions and classroom work, but Nathan’s mind was elsewhere.

“Do you ever remember your dreams?” he asked his father, advancing the boundaries and getting into little known waters.

The question seemed to take the man by surprise, his teacup help in midair between the saucer and his mouth for a blink of an eye, then resting back on the saucer so Professor Snape could glare properly at him.

Nathan almost sighed.

“I don’t indulge in such frivolities, and you shouldn’t, either,” his father answered, visibly irritated.

Nathan didn’t make excuses for his question, neither did he insist on an obviously unwelcome subject. He wasn’t prepared for another round of that fight, yet. 

But Nathan made up his mind about looking for the Divination professor right there and then.

“Do you know why learning about Goblin Revolts is so important?” he asked, presenting the completely unrelated question as a white flag.

The man’s glare dissolved slowly, but the black eyes remained sharp. “It’s not.”

And from then on, the mood improved, although the shadow of the question about dreams lurked in the background, not forgotten by either of them, but left hanging untouched nonetheless for the remainder of their meeting.

~o0oOo0o~

It hadn’t been easy to find the Divination classroom, but now that Nathan was there, he could understand why. The room was all but hidden in the North Tower, and instead of a proper door, it was accessed by means of a ladder that led to a trapdoor. It was opened, but Nathan couldn’t see much through it. He climbed the ladder and poked his head in the room. The air smelled so sweet that Nathan almost lost his lunch to the sudden nausea. 

“So you came,” a misty voice startled him. He turned sharply to meet a woman with hair wilder than his mother’s who was approaching from behind colorful curtains, dressed in much the same fabrics. “I’ve been waiting for your visit,” she added.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. What was the woman talking about? “Are you Professor Trelawney?”

“I am, and I know who you are, Mr. Snape,” she answered in the same misty voice.

“It’s Granger,” Nathan corrected, then entered fully into the room, his nose wrinkling at the smell. 

“Ah, but you’re not only a Granger…” she insisted.

Nathan decided to ignore the remark and follow through with the purpose of his visit before he regretted coming. “Professor Flitwick sent me—”

“I know….”

Nathan frowned and continued, “He sent me here when I asked him about dreams. He said you would be able to help me.” 

The mouth of the eccentric woman rounded into a silent ‘O’. “Come here, come here,” she beckoned insistently, taking him by the shoulders when he came close enough and pushing him to sit down on a pouf. She took the seat across from a low table, where a crystal ball rested. 

Nathan circled his shoulders; he didn’t like being manhandled. 

“What dreams are you experiencing?”

Nathan opened his mouth to answer, but she held a hand up, halting him.

“Nightmares…” her misty voice whispered. “The demise of a loved one.”

Nathan frowned irritated at the big-eyed witch. “No,” he said dryly. “I just want to know how to—”

A high-pitched sound came from the witch, interrupting him again. She pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed. She remained that way so long, that Nathan almost thought she gone to sleep. When he was about to rise and leave, her misty voice filled the silence.

“My Inner Eye sees… you… and your father!” She suddenly opened her eyes wide. “A shadow just blocked the vision. An omen.” She rose and grabbed Nathan’s hands, the move startling him to withdraw as far as he could. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” 

He pulled his hands away, coming to his feet and making more space between him and the professor, frowning angrily at her. “What loss? There is no loss. I only came here to know if there was a way to make someone remember their dreams while awake, that’s all.”

“I know....” Her voice wavered dramatically. “One must have an unclouded mind to See and Know, and that’s a Gift granted to few. It’s the same with prophetic dreams.”

“Not prophetic dreams, only _dreams_ , the usual kind,” Nathan told her, annoyed. “I need a spell or potion to make Professor Snape remember his dreams; that’s all I’m asking.” 

“Snape has been dreaming? Hm….”

The rhetorical question and her unfocused eyes bothered Nathan as the exasperation he felt had made him reveal more than he should have, although he would only find out its consequences later. 

“Do you know any such spell?” No answer. “No?” he insisted. She didn’t even seem to be there anymore. “Then have a good day, ma’am.” 

Nathan growled and then left, striding angrily through the corridors—his robes would have billowed had they more fabric—with a promise of never coming back. His mother was right, Divination was for fools.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus was calmly eating dinner when his calm was broken by the Divination fraud. Sybill took the seat next to him, despite his murderous glare.

At least he was almost done with his meal. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to endure her nauseating smell for too long, or the meal would be lost, anyway. 

It was a good thing that the witch didn’t talk to him since that first day after he had come back to Hogwarts to teach and had hexed her voice off for two weeks in retaliation of her prediction of his demise the following morning. That had been the first time after killing Albus that he had felt good to be free from the wizard’s reprimands.

It was puzzling that the witch was now clearing her throat as if about to speak and break years of their unspoken peace pact.

“Your son came to me…” Sybill started. Severus frowned at his meal. What was Nathan thinking?! “He brought with him such dreadful omens…” the fraud added.

Severus turned warning eyes upon her. He was taken aback by the extent Nathan was going to get to him. This new unpleasant development was boiling Severus’ blood. Checking out books about dreams from the library was one thing, but going to Sybill? That was crossing a line.

“He told me about your dreams…” she continued, unaffected by the wizard’s silence. “He wanted you to remember them, but I don’t think that’s wise.”

Nathan had definitely crossed all the lines this time. 

“I’ve seen only disgrace in your son’s presence. My Inner Eye was blocked by darkness…. I won’t be seeing you for breakfast.”

Severus’ ears had tuned her out, and he wasn’t seeing much past the white rage ablaze and consuming him. Nathan had gone and involved other teachers, Severus’ colleagues, the likes of Sybill Trelawney, and Severus was livid! 

He rose slowly, masquerading all his feelings with outward calm—some even so expertly then he himself wasn’t aware of them— and walked purposefully towards the House Tables. He went straight to the Gryffindors, rage building from white to red, and stopped behind the infuriating boy.

“A word in my office, Granger,” he ordered.

The boy looked up at him, seeming puzzled by his presence there and the demand he made, reflected in his stillness and not a sign of intention of obeying.

“Now!” Severus snarled. This and other nonsense would be ending right now!

The boy finally left his seat unhurriedly, but the urgency growing steadily within Severus upon his resolve to finally put an end to this sentimental torture was burning his patience.

“Move!” he snarled, showing the way out of the Great Hall with a hand on the boy’s back. No more hopes, no more dreams for either of them, even if Severus had to force these ideas out of the boy’s mind. No more eggshells.

“Couldn’t it have waited until I was finished with the meal?” Nathan asked when they reached the Entrance Hall. 

They were quickly getting to the dungeons level. “Don’t try me,” Severus answered, annoyed by the mere thought of what he’d heard during said meal. “This has sat for too long already.”

The boy made to stop walking to look at him, but Severus kept him going by the hand on his back.

“Stop pushing me! I know the way!” the boy told him, trying to shrug his hand away.

Severus was not allowing the boy to have his way; enough of that. He held Nathan’s arm and walked faster. “You think life is a dream, don’t you?” Severus asked him. “Didn’t your dream father tell you how it was bad manners to talk of his private matters to his colleagues? No? Then your _real_ father will teach you a few things; it’s past time for some discipline!”

The boy tried to escape his hand, but Severus held tight. “You go to the other teachers with this dream nonsense and expect what? That being a laughingstock for the likes of Sybill Trelawney makes me cheer with joy? That I’ll sit and listen to whatever advice that nitwit has on how I should handle myself and my son?”

They reached his office, and Severus threw the door open, dragging Nathan in, and banged it closed with force. “That I’ll suddenly start banging my head on the walls because my twelve-year-old prat thinks that’ll _cure_ his bastard of a father? That it’ll change who I am?” His voice was deadly cold in all its sarcasm, and Severus knew it. They looked intently at one another, each breathing heavily on the other’s face, Severus’ freezing gaze to Nathan’s wide-eyed stare.

“It’s not nonsense,” Nathan told him. Severus growled in frustration. “I wasn’t dreaming!” the petulant boy had the gall to hiss back at him.

“It’s never going to happen!” He shook the boy. “Forget about whatever you think you lived outside reality and live in the real world!” he shouted to the boy’s face. “I’m your father; this ugly bastard in front of you! There’s no other me! Wake up, boy!” he yelled, shaking Nathan, almost nose to nose with his son. 

“Let me go!” Nathan asked, shaking his arm, struggling to get free from his grip. “Let go!”

Severus tightened his fingers. “Enough!”

It only made what had started as petulance turn into urgency, escalating quickly into panic. Nathan pulled harder and harder to get free, breathing fast, making sounds filled with despair. Severus’ hand went suddenly hot, and he released his son’s arm in shock.

_What have I done?_

Nathan went immediately for the door, but Severus’ wards were up, locking it. Nathan kept trying, though, and Severus could hear the boy’s breathing from where he stood, now transfixed with where his anger had brought them; what he’d done.

“Nathan….”

A whimper.

“Nathan, please.”

“Open it,” his son gasped. “Open it.”

“Nathan, listen.” Severus’ voice was low and soft, a complete contrast to the harsh tone of before. His heart was pounding with fear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to….” He couldn’t say it—admit that he had hurt his boy, so like the father he had had. Severus weakly went down on his knee beside his son. “Nathan….”

His boy was crying, tears running freely. It broke Severus’ heart in more pieces than it had ever been broken before, his soul bleeding.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, as if speaking too loudly would further hurt Nathan.

“I-I cry if I wa-want to,” Nathan retorted, sobbing. 

“Please, Nathan,” he whispered.

“I-I’m tired of t-this.” Nathan tried to dry his eyes and cheeks with his hands. “O-open the door,” he asked again.

Severus stretched out a hand to touch Nathan’s shoulder, to beg, to show how sorry he was and how blind he had been. 

Nathan jerked out of reach, startled.

Scared. 

“Open it!”

Severus did, and Nathan ran away.

“I’m sorry,” Severus whispered to the empty room, still on one knee on the dungeon cold floor. “I’m so sorry.”

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan ran blindly from the desolation and disappointment. He ran almost all the way back to the Entrance Hall, but his steps faltered when sobbing made his chest hurt with the lack of air, and Nathan ended up in an alcove, dark and somber. He slid down the wall and sat holding his head, trying to breathe.

He wanted so badly to go home, forget he ever met his father and stay away from everything about the man. He didn’t want to go to meals and see him. He didn’t want to go to classes and see him. He didn’t want to have tea, nor dinner, nor any sort of meeting with that man. 

Nathan didn’t want a father anymore. 

He cried, because giving up hurt. He cried because he felt like the journey of his life had led him nowhere. His family was his mother. God didn’t want him to have a father; fate had deprived him of that joy. 

It was simply not meant to be.

Snape just couldn’t love him, just couldn’t. There wouldn’t be laughing, nor talking, nor making potions together…. No playing, no admiration, no holding…. Absolutely no love.

The night spent in the Astronomy Tower had been what, then? _A dream_ , the sharp voice of the father in his head provided.

Nathan shook his head. “Not a dream,” he told the man and himself, sniffing. Not a dream. It had happened! They had laughed, talked, played…. Snape had held him. “I thought you loved me,” Nathan whimpered.

He would give anything to go back in time, to that night, when resting his head on his dad’s chest was possible, the man’s lips brushing his forehead. 

“Not a dream,” he whimpered.

To listen his dad’s voice saying he had been missed.

“Not a dream,” he said again, stronger.

Then why wasn’t it real? 

“It’s real,” Nathan answered.

Then why was he wishing to forget about it? To let it all go?

It hurt, and it felt as if it would never stop hurting. So much rage in the man’s eyes, holding him with force.... Yes, it hurt. 

It would hurt forever, because he wouldn’t forget his dad and what could have been. His tears were now mostly from the grief weighing on his heart as the disappointment waned, leaving only sadness and a feeling of failure. 

Nathan had failed.

But how? He hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? How could he fail trying to help his dad understand what it could be like if he believed? 

An image of his father on his knee asking for forgiveness became clear in Nathan’s mind.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” he reasoned, drying his face on the sleeve of his robes. “ _He_ was wrong, and he apologized.”

It still hurt, but the pain was almost bearable with that realization, and no new tears stained his face. It hurt, but maybe his dad was feeling bad, too. 

_He should!_ Nathan’s mind condemned.

But he apologized… on his knees….

Maybe there was hope, but how would Nathan know? He would have to go back there. Could he do that? Could he face his father again?

Nathan remembered the soul his dad was underneath the harsh man he seemed to be and stood up. He took a fortifying breath, then another, and exited the dark alcove. He hadn’t failed, and he wouldn’t give up. Not now. 

Slowly, holding the minutes he’d shared with the soul of his father as an anchor to his resolution, Nathan walked. By the door to his father’s office, dread pulled at his stomach, and Nathan gulped. 

If he tried the handle and it didn’t budge…. If the door was locked….

Nathan closed his eyes. He reached for the handle and turned it. He held his breath and pushed. 

The heavy air left Nathan’s lungs when the door slid open. He opened his eyes and saw his dad on one of the chairs he reserved for his students, head in his hands. Nathan’s hope ignited. He entered and closed the door behind him with a click.

The sharp eyes of his father met Nathan’s at once, surprise written in their depths.

The silence was getting less urgent as the seconds passed and their eyes communicated. Nathan was becoming more and more certain of his decision to get back there and took the next step, an actual step, closer to his father.

The man’s lips parted, and Nathan waited. What would he say? What would be his tone? Would he yell again? Send Nathan crying back to Gryffindor Tower? Just thinking about it brought a tear to his eye, and he blinked it away, down his face.

His father buried his face on his hands again. “How can you come back here after all I did to you?”

Nathan swallowed a new wave of tears that was trying to surface. “You said you were sorry.”

The man nodded more than once into his hands. 

“Do you hate me?” It was all Nathan wanted—needed—to know. 

The question made his father raise his head from his hands and face him. The man opened his mouth again, and once more it didn’t utter a sound. Moving his head seemed to be all he was able to do, and now it was shaking from one side to another.

Nathan took another step towards the chair his father burdened, reassured by the negative answer to his question, even if it hadn’t been as vocal and final as Nathan would have preferred. There was something else Nathan needed to know….

“Do you…. Do you want to be… my dad?” His voice faltered a little when he said the last word. 

The pain Nathan saw on the man’s face was akin to physical, and it made Nathan’s stomach chill immediately, bringing tears to his eyes. That was it. The contorted lips and wrinkled brow said it all.

“Why not?” he asked, then, high and wet.

“I… I don’t know how,” the man finally said, his voice husky and anguished.

“Yes, you do,” Nathan disagreed. “You’re my dad.”

“Nathan….” It wasn’t more than a whisper.

And Nathan knew what he had—wanted—to do, and in a couple of steps he was in his father’s arms, hugging him tight. “You’re my dad.”

“I don’t deserve you,” his father said, but was pulling him into his lap to hug him back.

Nathan sniffed, hanging on to the embrace and not the words. He was starting to learn that his father did not always mean the things he said. 

“I’m always making you cry,” the man whispered regretfully, wiping Nathan’s cheek with his thumb.

“Then make me laugh again,” Nathan asked him, hoping this moment of truth would take them there, would make this easier. 

“You’re talking about dreams that can’t come true.” Defeat was what his father’s voice carried, and Nathan took a breath to argue, but the man anticipated him. “Please, Nathan, don’t do this to yourself.” 

“You want me to give up?” He pushed away from the man’s chest, not believing his ears, but unable to ignore his father’s eyes. “You do!” he accused, indignant, trying to get away, but held in place by strong arms. 

“Calm yourself,” Nathan heard, and it had an instant opposite reaction on him.

“No!” He struggled. “You’re doing it again!” His father’s soft shushing was fueling his feelings of distress and confusion. Nathan closed his fist on the fabric of the man’s teaching robes. “No,” he gasped, and his father shushed again, holding him in secure arms. He growled, angry with the man for treating him one away and asking another. 

“You’re giving up!” Nathan hit him with a fist on his chest, growling again. “You can’t give up!” he yelled, hitting the man again.

“Shhh, Nathan.”

“I—I won’t let you!” he sobbed, burying his tears in the man’s neck.

“Shhh.” The man rocked him lightly. 

Minutes passed, and Nathan was exhausted, his tears drying. He remained on his father’s lap, a big hand resting on his head, holding it against the warmth. Moments passed in prevailing silence, calming and contemplative.

“Dad?” his husky voice called.

“You’re very brave, my son,” his dad answered, his tone soft. 

Nathan pulled from the man’s chest, trying to see his face. “You’re not giving up, are you?” Nathan asked when he couldn’t find what he was looking for in the man’s eyes.

His father took a deep breath, releasing it in a quiet, “No.”

Nathan nodded approvingly, knowing the difficult admissions were usually those his father meant. 

A hand reached his face and ran on his damp cheeks, warm and awkward. “You have a runny nose.”

Nathan straightened on his father’s lap, ashamed and prepared to run a sleeve of his robes on his nose, but had his arm held down. 

“Not on your sleeve,” the man sneered. 

Not knowing what else to do about it, Nathan sniffed deeply, trying to get rid of the mess.

His father sighed. “In the lab,” he ordered gently.

Nathan obeyed, leaving the man’s lap to walk to the hidden door with him following close behind. 

“Wash your face,” his father told him, pointing calmly at the sink.

Nathan took his time cleaning his eyes and nose. Without the physical connection to tell him what his father was really thinking, Nathan was dreading what was coming next. The man still seemed calm when he offered him a Conjured towel. Nathan dried his face, reveling in the softness of the fabric provided by his father. Maybe his dad had finally understood that the only direction Nathan would accept going was forward.

He turned and found his dad watching him. “I’m walking you to your common room.”

Nathan closed his eyes, an urge to scream, but he condensed his frustration to his hands and strangled the towel. It was still soft. He took a calming breath. “This isn’t the end of this; I’m not done yet. I’m researching dreams and how to make you remember them,” he told the man evenly. “If you don’t want me to go to any other professor with my questions, you’ll have to help me.”

“Nathan—” 

“Because I won’t give up until you believe me!” he raised his voice over his father’s to say, still even, not yelling. 

His father was looking intently at him, and Nathan was holding his gaze with determination.

“I’m not giving up,” Nathan assured.

“Then we find ourselves in a dilemma, because dreams are only that: figments of an imaginative mind. Fools would believe they can be more than that, Nathan, and I’m not a fool, and neither should you be.”

Nathan had to study his father’s words, but more than that, he had to figure out what they really meant. If there was a mistake Nathan wouldn’t make anymore was to believe his father’s words had only their literal meaning. He kept studying the man, until he decided to challenge him.

“I know you don’t believe me, but I also know what I lived for myself was true, Dad. It was _not_ a dream. I can’t make you remember our time together the way I do—yet—but I would bet my life that our souls meet every night, when we’re sleeping and they’re free.”

His father was shaking his head in annoyance. “It wasn’t me, Nathan.”

“Yes, it was!” he countered, also annoyed.

“Whenever have you seen _me_ ever do anything remotely close to what you said this mystical dream dad you created did?”

Nathan opened his mouth and arms, exasperated. “Where have you been in the last hour, Dad? Can’t you see it? The man who holds me when I’m crying, who takes care of me, who _cares_ about me, is only one man, and that’s you, Dad! You!” He pointed vehemently.

All the man did was stare for a few silent moments.

Nathan threw his arms in the air, letting them come down to snap loudly on his thighs. “Dad,” he said again, not letting go of the new title—an anchor of motivation—and keeping his tone matter-of-fact, “you were closer to your soul than ever tonight.” Before the tears that were making the backs of his eyes burn actually condensed, Nathan stopped, and when he felt sure he was in control, he adjusted his tone of voice and softly suggested, “See for yourself that what I’m saying is true; use the spell to visit me tonight, and you’ll see that I’m not lying, that it’s all real, and we’ll never have to discuss this again.” 

His father narrowed his eyes at his suggestion. Nathan wasn’t going to let him crush his hopes again.

“You said you weren’t giving up. Well, prove it.” A tear rolled down his face, stubborn, ruining the outward calm and authority he was trying to project.

His father pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away from him.

“Use the spell. You have no problem getting in and out. It’ll be easy for you, Dad. Please,” Nathan begged.

“I’m walking you to your common room,” his father answered, still facing the other way.

“Dad…” he urged. If his father didn’t agree, regardless of what he had said before, Nathan would be disheartened. 

The man brushed his long hair back before turning and heading for the door. 

“Come, Nathan. It’s late.”

Nathan followed the man throughout the castle corridors up to the Gryffindor Tower in gloomy silence. There was nothing Nathan could say that hadn’t been said already, and trying to expand his small arsenal of options still left at his disposal was making his head hurt badly. Exhausted, Nathan mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and turned to take one last look at his troublesome father. Unable to resist his heart’s urging, Nathan said, “You said you wouldn’t give up. Please, Dad, use the spell tonight.” Not expecting an answer and preferring the hope, he entered the common room and went straight to his bed. 

It took him some time and a few pages of a very boring book, but Nathan fell asleep. His last thoughts were of his father and the meeting he hoped they’d have very soon in his dreams.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus stared at the Fat Lady with tired eyes—a mirror of his heart. It had been tossed and strangled, pulled and pushed, at the hands of his twelve-year-old son, who had just thrown the small thing right back at him, expecting Severus to know what to do with such a bruised burden. Severus blinked and saw the Fat Lady stared right back at him with more than mild curiosity.

He started back to the dungeons, ignoring portraits, students, and Filch, but unable to do the same to the less material of all those he met along the way. The Bloody Baron nodded politely at him, Severus answering the gesture, but thought only about Nathan’s challenge.

The boy was insufferable.

 _My boy._

Severus sighed and entered his quarters. 

He would have done anything possible to make his son happy, and although Severus was a very powerful wizard, he was still incapable of doing the impossible, no matter how much his son thought the contrary. Dreams were only dreams; Severus couldn’t turn dreams into reality.

_But you can do what he asked and use the spell._

“What a waste of time and energy,” Severus mumbled to himself.

 _Nathan is never a waste of anything_ , his mind disagreed.

Severus sighed again. Something was still biting at his heart, and even though he knew it wasn’t there to hurt, he still felt threatened. 

Hope was scary, and Severus tried to keep himself away from it. He pulled his wand and mentally made his line of buttons open. No, the queasy feeling was still there. 

Severus prepared himself for bed, knowing quite well that any other activity would be overshadowed by thoughts of Nathan. Even sleep would be a task tonight, but he was determined to at least try.

He went to bed, taking his wand with him instead of leaving it on the nightstand. Severus lay there, at times eyeing the canopy of his bed, at times closing his eyes so not to see it. He used all his exercises to clear his mind, but his mind was against him. He toyed with his wand and waited. Sleep wasn’t coming, so what was he waiting for? 

Courage, and it was coming slowly, but it was coming.

_Damned hope!_

It was past midnight when Severus raised his wand arm and intoned the Anima Libertas, freeing his soul.

It was some minutes later when he decided to leave his body and quarters behind. It took him several minutes more to get his soul to the seventh floor, where the Gryffindors slept, but he reached the entrance of their tower and waited. What was he waiting for?

Courage.

Again.

It was easier to feel his hope now that his body wasn’t there, and Severus frowned. He hadn’t been able to sleep; he hadn’t taken his son’s words—and the possibilities they represented—out of his troubled mind. It was time to see for himself, to meet the world his son longed to experience again, fearing and craving each step he took towards this unknown part of dream or reality. Outside the protection of his body, thanks to the Anima Libertas, Severus closed his eyes and passed _through_ the sleeping Fat Lady, entering the Gryffindor Tower in search of what he didn’t really believe existed. 

He stood staring at the shining occupants of the active common room with genuine surprise and fear. Students passed by him as if he wasn’t there, talking and playing as if nothing was amiss, as if bodies weren’t essential. 

_“Dad, you came!”_ Severus heard, and he was engulfed in a fierce hug, trembling at the uncovered contact of his soul with such powerful waves of… love. The smile of happiness directed at him made it difficult to regain control, and before he could find what to say, he was pulled by a hand. _“I’m trying to teach them non-verbal magic, but they just don’t get it,”_ Nathan explained as they approached a group of boys in one of the corners of the room. _“My dad will explain,”_ his son told his friends, who turned expectant—not fearful, nor anxious—eyes at him.

 _“Hello, Professor Snape,”_ Wood greeted politely, even outlining a smile—genuine, at it.

 _“Good evening, Mr. Wood,”_ Severus answered in reserved politeness, not knowing exactly what was expected of him, how to act.

 _“Professor Snape, can you tell Nathan that we’re not going to learn something just because he did,”_ Brown interjected, directing a glare at Nathan.

Nathan rolled his eyes, keeping a light smile on his lips. _“You’re just lazy.”_

Brown shrugged. Wood smiled, shaking his head. 

_“Non-verbal spells are better learned in sixth year,”_ Severus told them, protecting himself from the awkwardness of the moment behind his professorial persona. 

_“I told you so,”_ Brown gloated. 

_“Can we play Exploding Snap now?”_ asked Wood.

It was Nathan’s time to shrug, and then he closed his hand around Severus’ again.

 _“I’ll get the cards!”_ Brown said excitedly and left as Severus followed his progress throughout the room.

 _“Will you play?”_ he heard Nathan ask and wondered who he was inviting, since Mr. Wood was the one who suggested the game in the first place. Severus lowered his eyes to watch his son and met expectant, shining ones directed at him. Severus’ eyebrows rose in surprise. _“I know you prefer chess, but we always laugh more playing Exploding Snaps, don’t we?”_ Nathan beamed.

 _“No!”_ he answered, panicked. _“Of course not!”_

 _“Oh,”_ Nathan uttered in disappointment.

 _“I’ll invite Jose, then,”_ Wood told Nathan and left in search of their friend.

_“I thought you’d be staying.”_

_“I…”_

Severus was lost for words. Did he indulge in games with his son? He knew he didn’t, so why was he asking himself that? And yet… did he? Severus couldn’t believe it, even with all the evidence to the affirmative. He would dream of it, he was forced to admit, but dreams…. Did it mean that dreaming wasn’t safe anymore? 

He didn’t belong there. Severus felt like an intruder in his own dreams and knew the feeling crushing in his chest very well. He had to leave. 

_“I have to be somewhere else.”_

_“Okay,”_ Nathan accepted easily, hugging him and increasing the discomfort in his chest. _“We can always play chess tomorrow, right?”_ Severus had no answer he could give, so he patted his son on the shoulder, expecting he couldn’t die from lack of air outside a body, so tight was his chest. _“Are you okay?”_ his son asked concerned. 

_“Fine,”_ he managed.

_“Nathan! Are you coming or not?”_

Severus had forgotten that he was in the middle of a room full of students, and realizing that, he disentangled himself from his son’s embrace and moved away.

 _“Chess.”_ The boy smiled. _“Tomorrow.”_ He turned and ran happily towards his friends.

Severus hurried in the opposite direction, not even realizing he had crossed a wall until he couldn’t see his son anymore. His chest was heaving, his hands were trembling. 

It was real.

Souls, the innermost part of human beings, were free at night, interacting as if awake, feeling intensely every feeling shadowed by their thick bodies….

 _“Merlin,”_ he gasped, thinking now about all the nights he’d dreamed of Hermione Granger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paradigm shift! Poor Severus.... 
> 
> **Coming next…** Severus can’t get Hermione out of his mind.


	32. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus can’t get Hermione out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

Severus spent Friday between his classroom and his office. The events of the night before still disturbed him greatly, and he needed time on his own to think. Reality had expanded to mind-blowing proportions, and it would take more than one day for Severus to assimilate all the meanings and consequences of it. Denial wasn’t an option, but to be honest, neither was this madness. 

All his life he’d spent in duplicity, and when he’d thought this was all over and done with, a new part of his life was exposed to him—the part he’d always wanted to play; his dreams coming true.

Severus couldn’t believe all he’d dreamed had actually happened to him, to his soul. Even when he thought about all the frequent nightmares and understood how they could have been real through many justifiable reasons, it wasn’t the idea that he’d actually gone through all those terrors what had his face closed into a worried frown. Oh, no. 

What worried and amazed him in equal parts were the dreams—now proven real—of love and affection shared between him and his son and, most worrisome of all, his son’s mother. The Hermione Granger of his dreams was….

Oh, Merlin!

How in hell could he look at her again, knowing that everything he’d dreamed doing to her had been, in fact, done?! This was madness! And the more Severus rationalized about that fact and knew this couldn’t be happening, the less he wanted to believe reason.

He wanted to be insane, if that was what it took to live a life of dreams. 

A pity that Severus was too proud of the grasp he had on the control of his urges to let himself give in. He’d been too young when he’d stopped dreaming while awake. It took time to believe he could dream again and not have those dreams crushed. 

His dreams had always been crushed.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair, sighing. Never in his life had he felt so vulnerable, because if he went to sleep, he knew by now where his mind—no, his soul—would be taking him, and there would be no way of controlling what he would be doing.

Images, glimpses of past dreams invaded his mind as if to mock and tempt him. He eyed the new batch of Dreamless Sleep maturing on the workbench and asked himself for the umpteenth time if it was even worth drinking a dose of it. Could the potion work as more than a deceiver, a mask that would free his randy soul even more? Besides, to be honest with himself—and Severus must—if there would be dreams, he wanted to, at least, be able to remember them later.

Such a pity he was so keen on control.

Severus decided to go dine in the Great Hall. Maybe she wouldn’t be there; maybe he could buy himself some time to come up with a solution, some way around this. But as soon as he entered the Great Hall, he saw Hermione there and felt hopeless and uncharacteristically defeated.

“Good evening, Severus,” she greeted politely when he was taking his seat, which tonight happened to be the one next to hers. “How was your week?” she asked conversationally when he settled.

“Stressful,” he found himself answering.

Hermione blinked those beautiful eyes at him. Severus wanted to curse himself when he realized he’d actually answered her aloud.

“You need a relaxing weekend.” She smiled, stretching her perfect lips to show him equally perfect teeth. “If I can help you with anything, you need only ask.”

He would have stood, spat something despicable and sarcastic in refusal, and left, but then again, why bother. He wasn’t in control of any of these situations, so why pretend. He opted to eat, slowly and quietly, as if savoring his last meal. The world he’d lived in yesterday no longer existed; the Severus he’d been all these years was a lie, a shadow…

A puppet.

Again.

Now of his own wants and needs… his heart’s desires… his wishes…

He glanced at Hermione and felt like screaming.

Severus was really damned, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself this time. The masks were down.

“… all right?” 

He heard the last of her words. He’d been staring at her, lost in his thoughts of damnation. “Yes,” he answered, again aloud, and then made a show of disinterest by looking ahead of him into the sea of faceless students. Severus shoved another slice of potato into his mouth to keep his tongue occupied.

He knew she was watching him; he could feel her unasked questions hanging from her open mouth, her lovely hands twitching with indecision. His eyes focused on a boy—his boy. Nathan caught his eyes and smiled tentatively, more of a half-smile, and Severus’ last attempt to put his mask back up succumbed, then. 

He stood, leaving most of his dinner on his plate. 

“Severus?”

He looked back at her, resolve on his eyes. “Not now,” he told her and headed out of the Great Hall. He was going to his quarters, and there he would wait until the castle was asleep. _And then it will be time, Hermione,_ he finished to himself, and only himself this time, thankfully.

~o0oOo0o~

 _Not now?_ Hermione thought to herself. What was that supposed to mean? What must have happened to turn Severus into this unresponsive—or rather unusually responsive—wizard? He said he was stressed, and he did look worse for the wear, but what could be causing it? He had seemed so relaxed on Sunday last….

He always reverted to his old gitty self after clearly enjoying something, so that must be it: Severus was sulking.

Hermione summoned the image of only moments before, of him eating quietly beside her. He’d seemed distant, really tired. Besides knowing it would aggravate him to no end, she’d felt like extending a hand to pat him on the back and comfort him, then, and she was almost leaving her own dinner to go after him, now.

 _Not now,_ his voice in her head reminded her, and Hermione sighed. “Severus, Severus…”

She searched the crowd of Gryffindors and found Nathan laughing with his friends. He couldn’t be the source of Severus’ misery, could he? Somehow, Hermione thought it unlikely this time.

Whatever it was, Hermione was certain it was something big.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus paced in front of the dying fire, keeping himself awake. Every five minutes, he looked at the watch, expecting an hour had passed instead. It was almost one in the morning. Was she asleep? He looked at the watch again and decided he would take the risk or go mad—or madder, as the case may be. 

Entering his bedroom, he experienced a moment of indecision about what to wear before casting the spell. Growling at himself for even caring, Severus simply lay down in the usual black teaching robes he had on and stared at the draped cloth held in place by the four posters of his bed. An image of Hermione naked, framed by that same cloth while in bed with him, over him, on him, was all it took for Severus to chant the Latin of the spell and free his soul, finally.

Now, he needed only find her.

Severus’ soul walked through the castle’s halls with only one destination in mind: Hermione. His will took him to her quarters, and by the door, he hesitated. 

This was insane. He would walk through her door and then what? How should he act? Whose part should he play?

Severus knew the answer was _himself_. He should be himself for the first time in many decades, but what he feared was to be incapable of sustaining that role for longer than a minute.

This was truly insane. 

Even the door was mocking him, and for a moment, this ordinary-looking door became a very painful door—Gryffindor’s—and Lily Evans was denying him forgiveness behind it. Severus shook his head, ridding himself of the unpleasant sight. History would not repeat itself, so he went through and into a living room.

 _“Severus.”_ His name was pure joy, and he froze again with uncertainty and then went stiffer yet with unease when her arms came around him. The force of her welcoming energy in contact with him—soul to soul—was such that Severus, for fear of ceasing to exist, held on to her, tightly. _“I missed you,”_ she told him, and Severus, no matter how crazy the notion, had missed her, too. He had no voice to express it, though; Severus still thought he was about to explode.

Hermione touched the buttons of his robe, but for Severus, it was as if there was nothing separating their bodies—or whatever was making their souls touchable. _“You’re still in your teaching robes… Are you sleeping over parchments again?”_ She seemed amused at the thought, looking up adoringly at his face, then reaching a hand to caress it, leaving a trace of warmth where her fingers touched. _“My poor, overworked Professor Snape.”_ She sealed the words with a peck on his lips, and Severus almost lost the strength on his legs, overwhelmed with feelings he thought he would never feel coming his way.

Severus delved in, drowning, pressing his lips on hers for a kiss he would never forget. The way she eagerly answered made Severus whimper, whatever objection he might have had completely forgotten, and forgotten, and forgotten…

Hermione broke the kiss before he could stop her.

 _“What is it?”_ Now, she seemed worried. _“What’s the matter, Severus?”_

 _“I need you,”_ he whispered. He pulled her back to him, burying his nose behind her left ear and sighing a shuddering breath.

 _“You’re shaking,”_ she observed. _“Severus, why are you shaking? What happened?”_ She pulled his head up to search his face, and he let her, overjoyed by being cared for, worried about, and that made the trembling grow more pronounced. 

He would explode, and he would cease to exist as a loved man, and that made it all unimportant. Hermione was pulling him somewhere, and Severus would follow her no matter where. She made him sit, and he did.

 _“You’re scaring me,”_ she told him. _“What’s wrong with you?”_ She started fussing over him, and every touch of her on his soul was a wave of love; Severus couldn’t help moaning, melting on the couch as if muscles were jelly. She stopped abruptly. _“I’m making it worse.”_ She sounded horrified. When he felt the waves of her presence start to fade, Severus opened his eyes and prevented her from getting up by a hand holding her by the wrist.

 _“No, no!”_ His urgency would have embarrassed him if he were in a more rational state. He pulled her into an embrace and gasped. _“Don’t go, Hermione,”_ he whispered. This was much more than Severus had anticipated when he decided to work the spell to meet her tonight; so much more.

She accepted his embrace quietly for a moment, then asked, _“Are you feeling better, now?”_

He felt like laughing, and he didn’t hold back. It was so liberating to laugh. _“I’ve never felt better in my life,”_ he finally answered, smiling at the woman in his arms. 

She tilted her head, squeezing her eyes at him. They suddenly widened, and she gasped. _“You’re conscious! You’re under the Anima Liberta!”_

Severus held her eyes, the mirth still lingering on his. They kept looking at each other for quite some time, analyzing the situation in its full light.

_“Have you found what you were looking for?”_

Her question was curious in its essence, he felt. So, had he?

 _“Yes,”_ he answered them both. 

_“And what are you going to do with the knowledge?”_

He looked intently in her eyes and pulled her to his lap, kissing her hungrily on the mouth. This was heaven to Severus; she was heaven to him. She was straddling his thighs when her lips escaped his. 

_“What kind of answer was that?”_ she insisted. 

_“How long has this been going on?”_ he asked instead of answering her.

She bit her lower lip, and Severus wet his, not giving her any more time than a few seconds to answer when he took hers for his with another kiss. What did it matter? He would rather have her silent under his mouth than answering him away from it, anyway.

She broke away again.

_“Severus, stop kissing me when we obviously need to talk instead.”_

He brushed his thumb over those striking lips of hers, not really aware of what they were saying. 

_“They’re even more mesmerizing after you’ve been thoroughly kissed.”_

She averted her eyes, seeming embarrassed by his comment. Severus knew a moment of uncertainty, then, which helped him sober up enough to agree with her previous statement; they needed to talk. He took his hands from her and instantly wanted to touch her again, so he took her hands in his.

 _“How long has this been going on?”_ he reiterated the question.

She looked back at him and visibly relaxed when her eyes took in his expression.

 _“Since before…”_ she started. _“Not much after we started working together, in a way.”_

Severus’ eyebrows shot up, and he looked for ways to understand her wrong, to make ‘working together’ be last month, when he read through a recipe left on the workbench of his lab and couldn’t resist writing a note at the margin, and not twelve, thirteen years ago.

 _“During the war—”_ she ruined it _“—when I assisted you with potions and the Order.”_ She left his lap but didn’t leave his touch, keeping his hand with her, making him turn to his side and face her where she now sat beside him on the couch. 

It was hard to believe that she was telling the truth. Severus couldn’t simply believe he had been having an affair with Hermione Granger in his sleep for thirteen years while living miserably when awake. He frowned.

 _“Don’t,”_ she told him, freeing a hand to smooth the creases between his eyebrows. _“Please, don’t try to understand or analyze the situation so rationally. Affinities brought us together, and life made everything complicated, as it’s wont to do. There’s nothing wrong with anything.”_

_“Our souls have an affair of thirteen years, and you say there’s nothing wrong with anything?”_

_“We’re not having an affair,”_ she corrected him. _“We’ve always liked spending time together, and since we decided to have a son together, we’ve become much more than friends or lovers; we’re a family, sharing love and growing together.”_

_“We haven’t decided to have a son; I was never given any choice about that, and I can’t see how you could have chosen to be pregnant with him, either—”_

_“Severus,”_ she interrupted, _“you’re mistaken. We decided everything together. We agreed that Nathan would bring us together, that he would help me go through the terrors of the war, and he agreed to help you forgive yourself for the things you were forced to do for so long.”_

He wanted to object, but she stopped him again.

_“The only fact I’ll agree that didn’t happen the way we’d planed is how long it’s taking us to come to terms and become the family we’re meant to be. Nathan is suffering for things he didn’t have anything to do with.”_

She looked haunted and sad, and her sadness reached him like a dart of ice on the heart. It hurt. 

_“I’m sorry,”_ she apologized, seeming to know that she was hurting him. _“It’s just that it’s been a frustrating year for us all.”_ She smiled, then, and the pain was gone.

Severus went fast for her lips, kissing them tenderly, not knowing why he couldn’t control himself around her. She kissed him back, holding on to him, making him lightheaded. When their mouths lost contact, Severus’ eyes remained closed, still feeling her. 

_“I love you, Severus Snape. I love you so much.”_ Hermione whispered.

Now, she was the one who was initiating a kiss, bringing his head down with a firm hand on his nape, attacking his mouth with her tongue and melting his sense of conscience. His hands were quick to learn the way up her back, into her hair, and Severus could answer her voracity by letting his tongue free to taste her. 

Could two souls become one?

~o0oOo0o~

The wind howled, and Hermione woke up startled. When she remembered the last of what she had been dreaming, she groaned.

“Not when I’m kissing him!” she complained to Morpheus.

She tried in vain to go back to sleep and into Severus’ arms, and when she realized her night’s rest was irrevocably cut short by the wind, Hermione sighed and put the bed covers aside. Since she was already awake and her dream was ruined, why not go back to the Arithmantic equation she had been working on?

~o0oOo0o~

Still lost and disoriented, Severus watched, Hermione come into the room and take the chair by the table in the corner, away from him. Her presence didn’t have the same overwhelming effect as before, the air between them heavier, now, but she was definitely there. Severus wanted to feel her close again, but she was a physical presence in the room, and he couldn’t touch her, could he?

He approached and stood behind her chair. Severus glanced at the parchment she was staring at, placed his nose close to her hair, and inhaled deeply. Her scent was muted but definitely there. He reached a hand to caress her arm.

 _“Hermione.”_

She let go of the parchment and shuddered. 

“You’re in my dreams, and now you don’t let me concentrate. You’ll drive me insane, as you like to say I am already,” she mumbled to herself, but Severus knew that her words were for him.

He chuckled and stepped away to watch her reaction.

She took the parchment in her hands again and made a face of concentration. Severus smirked.

When he was about to touch her again…

_“There you are! I’ve been waiting for you for hours!”_

It was his son—or rather, the boy’s soul.

_“You promised me a chess match, or have you forgotten?”_

At the same time that Nathan seemed mad at him, the boy hugged him tight. Severus’ arms came around Nathan, and what Hermione had told him earlier was starting to come back. 

_“I’m sorry, Son.”_

Nathan looked up, and Severus could see that he was smiling. _“I like when you call me that,”_ the boy told him. _“It’s much better than dunderhead.”_ He was still smiling, making of the statement a joke. 

_“You’re not a dunderhead,”_ Severus told him seriously. He felt like apologizing for every single word he had ever uttered and that had hurt his son in any minimal way.

The boy frowned. _“You’re sad. Don’t be sad. You know I don’t mind the things the git says.”_ He smiled again. _“Don’t we joke about it all the time?”_

The insult to his persona made Severus feel better, marginally. He was pulled by the hand.

_“Come on. It’ll be morning before we know it, but there might still be time to play a little.”_

That made Severus realize how far into the night it was and how little real sleep he would be having. The spell was very draining, so he had to stop his son. _“I can’t.”_

 _“But, Dad,”_ the boy whined. _“It’s been days!”_

 _“I know,”_ Severus said, even though he knew nothing, _“but I’m about to wake up. We’ll do this some other time, I promise.”_

Nathan sighed. _“Okay. Go wake up, then.”_

The scene of the boy sulking for not having his company was oddly endearing, and Severus patted his head, ruffling his hair. 

_“I keep my promises, Nathan.”_

_“I know, but it still sucks. This is the only time we really have together, and you sleep so little….”_

The boy’s grief was heavy where it touched Severus’ soul. He brought Nathan’s head to his chest to try to comfort him.

_“We’ll spend more time together awake. This is another promise I’ll keep, Son.”_

Nathan looked up and smiled before holding him tight and letting him go. _“Walk me up?”_ the boy proposed, taking Severus’ hand and pulling towards the door. 

Nathan told him about fascinating and mundane things while they crossed the castle. If other souls were out and about, Severus had no eyes to see them; Nathan had his full attention. While the boy talked, the words of Hermione’s revelation revolved in Severus’ mind. They had always been a family, Severus had always loved his son, and Nathan had always loved him back, as his father. Now Severus knew why it felt so right and possible to feel so attached to this boy. 

Severus disentangled his hand from his son’s and pulled the boy closer to his side by the shoulder without losing the stride. Nathan instantly hugged him by the waist and kept telling him about finally seeing the house-elves who served Gryffindor Tower cleaning his dormitory after almost a year trying to get a glimpse of the little creatures there. 

_“What did they do when they realized you were there?”_ Severus asked with genuine interest.

Nathan grinned before answering, _“They yelped like little girls and disappeared right away, just as you said they would. Man, they’re loud!”_

Severus wished he had the memory of the conversation in question…. At least, he would have this conversation to cherish. They were at the door to Gryffindor, and in this mood of dreams made possible, Severus decided to do what he had always wished an adult had done to him when he was Nathan’s age. He hugged his son and kissed him on the forehead. _“Stay away from trouble and never let anyone tell you that you can’t be whoever you want to be.”_

 _“I won’t, Dad. Love you.”_ Nathan hugged him and crossed behind the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Severus felt instantly cold and lonely. He hurried to the dungeons, looking for shelter, and when he finally arrived back in his quarters, he spent some long minutes observing his body, thinking about how he didn’t want to get back in there and leave this dreamland, the love, the happiness, his family, a life so much more worth living.

Severus performed the counter spell anyway, and a solitary tear ran down his face to the cold sheet beneath his head right before exhaustion took consciousness away.

~o0oOo0o~

His mother was inviting him to help her in the lab, but Nathan was afraid his father would be there. The last time they’d been together away from the rest of the school had been too emotionally consuming for Nathan, and he was apprehensive, worried about what their next meeting would bring. Nathan had already decided that he wouldn’t ask about whether the man had or hadn’t cast the spell that night. That meant he would remain in the dark, unsure.

The only thing he was sure of was that he didn’t want to get into another emotional rollercoaster anytime soon. 

“Ready to go?” his mother asked.

Ready was not how Nathan felt, but she was wearing that mischievous sort of smile she sported when she was about to try out some new theory. If Nathan said no, he was sure he would be missing some historical, monumental, epic moment of great fun. It seemed that he had no other choice but to take the risk of meeting his father, then.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he answered, and his voice carried more certainty than he truly felt.

His mother’s smile grew wider, and Nathan smiled back.

“What exactly will we be doing today?”

They started together for the dungeons. 

“I think I’ve finally found a way to modify the base to work more actively like the spell.” 

“We’ll be actually brewing something new, then?”

“Yes, and hope it’ll work. Fingers crossed!” she told him excitedly.

_Yes, this will be epic fun!_

But the moment they entered the Potions master’s office, Nathan’s idea of having a fun afternoon was challenged by the presence in the room. Nathan tried to act as if nothing was bothering him, hoping they could pass by the professor without interacting.

“Good afternoon,” the man greeted, to Nathan’s dismay. 

_He never greets us! Why today?_

“Good afternoon, Severus,” Mum was quick to answer. “Are you feeling better?”

His father nodded slowly, watching her thoughtfully for a moment before fixing his dark eyes on Nathan. 

“Good afternoon,” Nathan felt obliged to say, and his father inclined his head in acceptance of the greeting before turning to Nathan’s mother again.

“I have a potion in the making. It’s only taking some space on the second workbench, so I presume it won’t constitute a problem to your brewing,” his father informed.

“No, it certainly won’t,” she answered, and then there was silence.

Nathan didn’t understand why his mother wasn’t moving to the lab, but she wasn’t; he also didn’t understand why his father was simply watching her instead of making them move, as usual. 

“I’ll be in the lab, then,” she finally announced, pointing to the hidden door but not moving to go there, yet. 

His father nodded, finally turning back to the papers on his desk.

His mother moved, finally, and Nathan followed her to the lab. He made sure the door was closed before he asked, “What was that all about?”

“What do you mean?” she asked back, going about preparing the work space.

Nathan looked to the closed door and opened his mouth to rephrase the question, only… he realized he had no idea how. “What just happened outside,” he tried. “You know?”

“No, I don’t,” she quickly answered. “Would you _carefully_ get the glass cauldron for me, please? The small one.” 

Nathan frowned but did as she had asked and started working with her. He didn’t even notice his mind putting the strange exchange between his mother and father behind thoughts of potion ingredients and exciting experiments.

After a few hours had passed, he was laughing at his mother’s disgust to the way he squished Bubotubers. His father decided to enter the room, though, ruining the mood for Nathan. He tried to go back to the fun they were having before, anyway, by squishing another Bubotuber.

“Stop that,” his mother admonished. It became clear that the fun was definitely over, replaced by the usual tension, and Nathan was instantly reminded of how strangely his parents had been acting to one another. 

He watched his father stir the contents of the cauldron set on the second workbench, listening to the utensils tinkle. 

“Your potion is starting to boil,” the man pointed out, not taking his eyes off the potion he was working on.

“Oh!” She snapped into action, rushing to turn down the heat. She stirred the liquid a few times. “I’ll need more pus, Nathan.”

It was Nathan’s time to startle back into action, still suspiciously watching his parents. His father had stopped stirring his potion but continued to watch it carefully. His mother was still attending to their base, only slowly now. Nathan squished a Bubotuber, and it squished loudly. The sound seemed to snap the fine line of tension, and now there was nothing holding the room in equilibrium. 

His father started moving his way, his mother stopped stirring the base, and Nathan let go of the knife he’d been holding, ready to apologize. His father took the knife… and cut the Bubotuber in half. 

“Cut it and then use the blunt edge of the knife to extract the pus from the halves. When you make them explode like that, although more fun—” a quirk of the man’s lips “—part of the secretion is lost.”

The handle of the knife was offered to him. Nathan took it and slowly cut the next Bubotuber in half, proceeding to do exactly how he had been taught.

“Much better,” his father approved, and Nathan felt a surge of happiness at the approval. 

They finished the base under the Potions master’s watchful eyes. 

“Playing with Pensieves?” the man suddenly asked. 

Nathan’s mother looked up from the potion, Nathan observing them both with interest. “I’m trying to enhance it,” she told the man and proceeded to explain her project and her theories, and his dad listened with attention. That made the fact that Professor Snape was being uncharacteristically nice this afternoon undeniable to Nathan. 

Maybe he had done as Nathan had asked; maybe he’d seen what it was like when they were sleeping, dreaming, and had decided to be less of a git. Hope was making Nathan’s heart beat faster. His father hadn’t given up on him, and he was trying to tell him, to show him, wasn’t he?

This was perfect! This was exactly what Nathan had wanted since he had met his father’s soul. A sudden urge to hug his father almost overwhelmed Nathan’s reason. The man’s attention shifted to him as if summoned, and Nathan knew that his father would be able to see in his glazed eyes the happiness and relief. His dad hadn’t given up on him.

“In any case,” his mother continued, “I think we’re done for the day. The base has to mature before anything else can be added. I can’t wait to see if it’ll work,” she said excitedly, driving his father’s eyes from Nathan and back to her. 

The man pushed away from the workbench he had been leaning on. “Very well.” He started to gather some vials from a shelf. 

Nathan’s mother was also gathering her equipments and unused ingredients.

“You could help me bottle this potion, Nathan.” 

Nathan looked sharply up, his mind unbendingly think, _Who? Me?_ at his father’s words. The man wasn’t looking at him, so Nathan approached slowly, silently. His father glanced his way momentarily.

“Take a ladle for you,” his father instructed. 

Nathan went after the utensil and walked quickly back to the cauldron, feeling suddenly nervous about the task. He was helping Professor Snape in the lab, his _dad_. The excitement would have been more than Nathan had ever felt about anything if….

“What’s this?” Nathan paled at the sight of the liquid before him. He knew that potion, he knew it! “Why did you make this potion?” he asked with a trembling voice. “Why, Dad?” He couldn’t take his eyes away from the cauldron full of Dreamless Sleep Potion. All Nathan’s hopes and dreams had poured out down that cauldron, and they were now in the perfect place for his father to dispose of them once and for all.

His mother chose that moment to reenter the room from the storage cupboard. Nathan made to go to her, but Snape held him by the shoulder. 

“I see you still have work to do.” She even smiled, unaware. “I can wait until you’re done if you want me to, Nathan.”

Before he could protest, his father said, “You don’t need to wait; Nathan was just saying that he’ll be staying until dinner time.”

“Of course! I’ll be back soon to join you, then,” she agreed, and Nathan could barely breathe, let alone protest.

“We’ll see you later,” his father bid in farewell, and Nathan was left to his own luck. He would be emotionally crushed, he knew. He should have screamed, but where was his voice?

“Nathan,” the man called. “Breathe, boy,” his father urged, and it was like a jinx had been lifted. “That’s it. Calm yourself.” A tear escaped from Nathan’s eye. “No, no,” his father said with some frustration, “there’s no reason for tears.” It only made Nathan flood with them, and arms were around him, holding him gently. “Shhh, calm down, Son. No need for crying. Shhh.”

“Dreamless Sleep,” Nathan gasped. 

“Shhh. I’m not going to use it.”

“No?” Nathan looked up. “You won’t?”

“No, I won’t, you silly boy. You’re fretting over nothing. Typical Gryffindor,” his father said the last under his breath, a tone of irritation creeping in. 

Nathan felt silly indeed and tried to recompose himself, drying his face and stepping away from the man.

“Help me bottle this so we can go.”

Nathan had tried to help, even with his hands feeling a bit numb, but his father ended up doing most of the work. Soon, they left the lab and went straight to the professor’s quarters.

“You should drink something.” 

Nathan opened his mouth to refuse, but a Conjured cup of tea was thrust into his hands before he could. “Thank you,” he automatically said. He took a few sips and felt surprisingly better.

His father fell heavily on the couch and sighed. Nathan observed him massage his eyes with the tip of his long fingers and felt sorry for overreacting. He sat on the edge of the couch and waited… looking at the teacup and waiting, looking at his father’s boots and waiting, looking at the blackened stones within the fireplace and waiting…

“Why do you need that potion?” He got tired of waiting.

“I see you’re finally calm,” his father observed. 

It wasn’t the answer, though. “Dad….”

“It’s not for my use, as I told you already.”

“Who is it for, then?”

“For someone else.”

“Who?” Nathan insisted. 

“Someone who is not me,” the man said dryly, eyeing him with warning.

“Is it for me?” Nathan asked, even though he didn’t think it was. “Because I am someone else, so it can be for me. You want me to stop dreaming becau—”

“It’s not for you, for Merlin’s sake!” 

It seemed he had gone too far, again, so he went silent, to wait.

More controlled, his father started, “I keep these potions in stock for when they’re needed. I am the potions provider in this castle, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Nathan nodded. Of course his father was making the potion for the school’s stock. He was, wasn’t he? Yes, he was. Nathan took another sip of tea and let it warm him. He was startled when his father leapt from the couch and disappeared into his bedroom. He soon came back, but not to the couch. Instead, he became occupied with something by the table, murmuring words Nathan couldn’t decipher from where he was, and he didn’t dare leave the couch. 

In a little while, his father’s intentions became clear, but Nathan was still confused. “A chess set?” he asked when he saw what his father was bringing with him to the sitting area. He watched the man clear the side table and place the set there. 

His father extended a hand towards him. “If you have finished…”

Nathan handed him the teacup suspiciously watching his father’s actions. The man Vanished it and then took the armchair next to the side table.

“Choose your army,” the man asked.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione knocked on Severus’ door and waited to be granted entrance. She had left Nathan with him not two hours ago, and although they had spent longer than that alone together before tonight, she was still slightly apprehensive. Severus wasn’t acting like himself this weekend. 

She knocked again, and the door sprang open on its own accord. She pushed it and entered, looking around for Severus and Nathan. The sight that greeted her eyes warmed her heart and melted her apprehension: father and son were heads-bent over a chess board.

Hermione approached quietly, not wanting to break the high concentration level the players seemed to be in. Severus moved the black knight, who loudly battled a white pawn down. Nathan watched the scene with a frown, then looked up at Severus with a puzzled expression and got a raised eyebrow in response. Nathan’s attention went back to the board, but Severus was watching her. He seemed to be looking at her as if she wasn’t able to see him, by the way his expression was open and somewhat distant. He looked at her almost curiously, maybe longingly, if she didn’t know better.

Hermione chanced a smile, and Severus turned his eyes back to the board almost shyly.

“Would you care for something to drink? Wine, perhaps?” he asked the chessmen.

“Wine would be nice, thank you,” she answered, and he left Nathan to the game and went for the liquor, soon coming back with two goblets of red wine. She took the one he offered her and sipped, watching Severus do the same, their eyes meeting for a conversation, although she wasn’t completely aware of the subject. A warrior screamed, and the conversation was over before she could grasp it. Severus took his place on the armchair again and watched the black knight theatrically give his last grunt around the sword of the white king.

Nathan hadn’t taken his eyes from the board.

Severus moved a black bishop three squares left and proclaimed, “Check mate.”

Nathan still ran his eyes over the board, probably trying to find a way to save his king, but he eventually admitted defeat and overturned the white monarch. “Taken by pawns,” he lamented. 

“Never underestimate the silent warriors,” Severus told him, and Hermione felt the truth of his words hit her heart.

 _He’d know_ , she thought. _He’d know…_

“Can we play another one?” Nathan hopefully asked.

“Maybe some other time,” Severus answered. “Your mother is here, and I believe it’s nearly time for dinner.”

“We can play after dinner, then.”

“Nathan.” She had to use her warning tone. Hermione knew Nathan had to be excited about sharing something like chess with Severus, but he should know better than to be inconvenient. 

“Another day,” Severus agreed.

Hermione was drawn to Severus’ library while they put the game away. She didn’t even notice Severus approach and was surprised to find him so close when he offered, “More wine, Hermione?”

The way he addressed her scared Hermione a little. He was sucking her in again; she was having such a hard time getting over him, and he was seducing her with wine and her name spoken in velvety tones. She blinked and turned from him, refusing his polite offer, “No, thank you.” Because Hermione was a master in turning anything he did from polite into flirting, and Severus was not a flirty wizard, _especially_ not with her.

The evening went by uncharacteristically slowly after that. Hermione’s awareness of the fact that she had to fight Severus’ charms made what would have been a very enjoyable dinner with him a test of her sanity. Every time she realized she was enjoying herself a little too much, she felt self-conscious and then awkward. He was being friendly, trying his best to have her comfortable for Nathan, and she was getting his signs and decoding them with the wrong dictionary. Severus must have noticed her discomfort, because he cut the evening short right after dessert was served. 

“You had a busy day and must be tired.”

Hermione was exhausted when she finally left Nathan at Gryffindor Tower and went to her quarters. The way Severus had looked at her tonight had made it almost impossible not to drown in those eyes and give her heart away. She was extremely tired of telling herself that she wasn’t appreciated every time the wizard seemed so agreeable to her comments and ideas. Earlier, all the looks, and Hermione this, Hermione that.... God must be taunting her.

Hermione let her head rest on the cushion of the couch and closed her eyes. So tired…. 

A tremor ran from her left ear, through her spine, and she pulled in a sharp breath, opening her eyes. Maybe it wasn’t only her mind that was tired, but also her body. Preparing the base had needed complex spells and precision, and Hermione could feel her magic asking for rest. Well, why fight the tiredness when sleep could lead to dreaming, and dreaming to….

Hermione sighed at her complete inability to control her thoughts. 

“Sleep, Hermione. End this torture already,” she mumbled while going through to the bedroom to prepare for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And while she sleeps… *lol* Interesting times these are! ;0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** Severus finds himself living a double life again, and Nathan is about to be introduced to the wizarding society.


	33. Addiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus finds himself living a double life again, and Nathan is about to be introduced to wizarding society.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

Hermione went home that week with many doubts and a weakened resolve. She had known it wouldn’t be easy to ignore her feelings for Severus, but she had hoped his antagonistic attitude and sharp cruelty towards her would make it somehow easier. The man she’d found during the weekend at Hogwarts could not have been the same wizard, though. Severus had been almost agreeable. She would even dare label him as approachable. 

Her feeble defenses were tumbling down.

If she hadn’t confronted him on Sunday, it was only because Nathan had been with them, otherwise Hermione would have made a fool of herself again, professing her love for him one more pathetic time.

This wouldn’t do. Hermione had to be stronger if she wanted her heart to survive this forced acquaintance until Nathan was strong enough to deal with his father on his own. 

Then she could stop meeting him every week. 

It hurt just to think of such time ever coming.

 _At least I can keep the dreams,_ her mind tried to trick her into believing, making Hermione roll her eyes at herself.

She couldn’t keep Severus in her subconscious and pretend she had gotten over him. Severus couldn’t be a man hiding in her mind. Hermione would be miserable, and that was not how she wanted to end her days. That was not how she would find someone to share life with her. Nathan would come back from Hogwarts a grown man, and that’s how it should be, and it was time to get ready for that.

And Severus didn’t want her.

_Even though he offered me wine in such a flirty way._

And with that thought, Hermione lost another battle. It was useless; she needed help!

 _Erica,_ Hermione thought. _She’ll help me._ She stopped pacing her living room to go to her neighbor, long-time friend, and best chance of sound advice.

~o0oOo0o~

“Are you really suggesting I start seeing William?” Hermione asked, not quite enjoying the prospect.

“He’s very much taken by you, which should be what every bachelor who knows you should feel,” Erica pointed out in another way of criticizing Severus’ attitude, “and he’s your friend already. Don’t you like spending time with him?”

“Well, I do, but—”

“No buts, Hermione. If you want to forget an old love, you have to replace it with a new one. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. Just give William a chance.” Erica nodded for emphasis and contradicted Hermione’s less than enthusiastic response to her advice.

“I don’t know, Erica. It doesn’t feel right to involve William like this.”

“Nonsense,” Hermione’s friend dismissed. “He’ll love every minute of it.” Erica smiled, and it seemed to Hermione that she actually knew what she was talking about.

Hermione sighed.

“All right, I’ll think about it.”

“Excellent!” Erica clapped her hands in excitement as if Hermione’s mind was already made. 

The only thing Hermione actually knew was that she had to stop loving Severus Snape. Every morning she woke up tangled in the tendrils of Severus’ presence in her dreams, it made her want to cry in frustration, so she agreed with Erica and had asked William to a dinner date. She didn’t care what he thought of this sudden decision on her part; Hermione just really, really wanted to move on with her life.

~o0oOo0o~

“Wow,” Nathan said quietly.

“What is it?” Severus asked, mildly confused by the boy’s reaction.

“You completely missed my knight there.” Nathan grinned, moving said piece forward. “Checkmate,” he said cheerfully. 

Severus frowned but then relaxed his face with a sigh. It wasn’t as if he was seeing much of anything after two nights in a row spent with Hermione in her dreams. He dropped his black king and announced, “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your House.”

“Just because I won?” Nathan protested.

Severus glared at that. “We both have classes in the morning.” He arched an eyebrow and defied the boy to challenge his authority.

“Right,” Nathan agreed, losing some of his joy. 

Severus made an effort to show some appreciation, then. “I enjoy playing chess with you,” he commented while he placed his pieces in their box.

Nathan smiled and started to help him. “I do, too. I have to think much harder than when I play with Andy or Kevin if I want to win.”

“It’s only natural. It takes time and practice to achieve mastery in the game, and I’ve been playing for much longer than you have,” Severus agreed and took the chess set to place it on a cupboard in his bedroom.

“What other games do you play?” Nathan inquired from the doorway.

“Gobstones,” he answered distractedly, his mind now on the discomfort of having a student in his most private room, son or not. 

“I’ve heard of it but never played or seen anyone playing it,” Nathan confessed, completely unaware of Severus’ discomfort.

“I learned it with my mother when I was a kid. She actually favored that over chess,” Severus revealed, leading them back to the sitting room. 

“Is she a witch, then?” Nathan asked. 

The whole situation was making Severus realize how little they actually talked about each other’s lives during their time together and also how hard it was for him to open up and let his son in. “She was,” he answered, carefully revealing more than was asked, testing his own limits.

Nathan, bright as he was, caught his meaning. “Oh.”

Before the boy could make the next question, Severus anticipated, “My father was a Muggle, and he also died a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Nathan offered. 

Severus didn’t feel the same way, but he didn’t need to tell his son that. The moment was awkward enough, already, and the silence was making it even more so. It was time to cut this evening short. “Let’s get going.” 

They walked side by side through the corridors of Hogwarts. The students who crossed their path didn’t give them a second glance, and for the first time, Severus realized that the students didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary to see Professor Snape and Mr. Granger walking together.

Curiously, Severus didn’t feel much differently anymore. Knowing that their relationship wasn’t solely based on these turbulent, awkward few months made it easier to accept the fact that he was the father of a twelve-year-old boy. Their souls had been connected from the beginning, and Severus could finally understand the seemingly foreign feelings he had for Nathan.

They could care for each other, and it was all right.

Nathan’s reaction to the extra-corporeal experience under the Anima Liberta was clear and understandable to Severus, now. 

“Dad,” his son called, the title sending a warm wave into Severus’ heart, “do you live in the castle all the time?” The question took Severus by surprise. “I mean, where do you go during the holidays and breaks, when there are no classes?”

Of course, since Severus had just told Nathan something about his parents, it was only natural that his mind would want to know more. Would Severus want to reveal more, though? Could he ever take Nathan to the horrors of Spinner’s End? 

Deciding, he looked at the boy and said, “I usually stay in the castle.” It was better to leave Spinner’s End out of Nathan’s life for now.

“All of the time? Even during the long breaks like summer?” Nathan insisted.

“I’m usually invited to stay somewhere else for a few days, and sometimes I accept those invitations.” 

That seemed to satisfy Nathan’s curiosity because the questions stopped, but it caused Severus to think… How would it be when Nathan was on summer break and away from the castle? Would they be apart until the next term started? Severus didn’t like that idea very much. He’d gotten used to the boy’s presence; he wasn’t only Nathan’s teacher, but the boy’s father. 

They were by Fat Lady’s portrait when Nathan spoke again. “You could come and stay with me when the classes are over. There’s plenty of space for another bed in my room.” Nathan smiled. 

Severus was amazed by the invitation, it had been so unexpected. “Thank you, but I don’t think that would work out well.” 

“I’m sure Mum wouldn’t mind. I could talk to her for you.” Another smile. “Good night, Dad.” 

Living with Hermione… Severus shook his head to clear it of the wonderful but impossible idea and started his walk back to his quarters. He would visit her under the spell tonight.

Again.

Severus sighed. He would never get a good night’s sleep again.

~o0oOo0o~

As much as it tired him, Severus continued to visit Hermione, using the spell that freed his soul. He’d told himself that he shouldn’t abuse it, but it was getting harder and harder to go through a day without the joys only her soul could bring—something completely different from anything he’d ever felt.

When he went to bed intending to sleep a full night, he closed his eyes, and the absence of that energy—which he didn’t want to call love—made him feel like he’d gone to bed starving. Especially when he’d had a trying day or had spent time with Nathan, Severus just couldn’t hold back, and he made use of the spell to get to wherever she was, no matter how drained he’d be on the following morning. 

It didn’t matter if it was a few corridors or miles away, if she was in Hogwarts or in London, Severus had always been able to find her. He needed only think of her, and it was like she was summoning him with that wonderful magnetism of hers. One blink, and the thought of her guided him. Another blink, and he was with her wherever she was. So easy… so irresistible….

More irresistible even was getting to her early to find her still awake, giving him some glimpses of her daily life before they were to meet in her dreams. Three evenings ago had been such an evening, and he’d found her reading, reclined on a comfortable-looking armchair in her apartment in London. Her peacefulness calmed him from his troubled day, something that Severus couldn’t remember ever happening in the presence of anyone else—not even Lily. It was scary and pleasant both to realize how much her presence in the same room could be reassuring. That, added to the fact that she couldn’t see him, was addictive. He could watch her expressions without reserve, and every different smile, the lines that would show in her face when he least expected, still felt very new to him. 

On the following evening, he arrived at Hermione’s apartment and had felt a moment of disorientation, probably due to the sudden assault by unexpected music to some senses he didn’t know were so perceptive. Severus had looked around and had found her in the kitchen area, cooking in rhythm to the pleasant sound. She moved with grace, he had to notice; a grace different than the one he perceived in her while she worked with potions. She hummed and sang along quietly, helping him remember her warm voice whispering closely to his ear the night before. He was getting used to her voice, now that it came with a number of lovely words that revolved things deep within his soul.

And tonight _she_ had come to him, and she hadn’t come alone, either. Severus had seen her in the Great Hall earlier, and watching her, knowing that she was unaware of the nights they’d spent together, had been more uncomfortable than he’d predicted. It made him wonder if she could remember her dreams, and if that were the case, what had she been thinking when she’d looked back at him with those shinny eyes and thoughtful expression before greeting him during dinner. 

Nathan, on the other hand, was simply smiling at him, sweetly and innocently, and the fact that this was the first time he’d seen the boy’s soul since that first experience with Hermione in her quarters made him feel somewhat guilty. His soul should have visited his son’s more. 

_“I knew it!”_ Nathan exclaimed. _“You_ are _using the spell!”_ He seemed happy with his findings instead of irritated, as Severus thought he would be.

 _“I thought we could spend some time together, but I was hoping you would be dreaming tonight.”_ Hermione’s usual reproach to his constant use of Anima Liberta never escaped his notice, but it was always quickly dismissed. 

_“I needed to see you,”_ Severus confessed. It was so easy to be honest with her in this state, when he knew she wouldn’t remember tomorrow.

 _“I am only a few floors away, as I’m sure you know. The thought of actually visiting me has never occurred you, though, has it?”_ she asked with strong reproach.

This highly irritated version of Hermione was new to him, and Severus was struck by the surprising force of the shame he felt for his cowardice. When he’d seen her in the Great Hall, she’d smiled, and his first impulsive response had been to go after her and kiss her senselessly. Of course, he soon realized he’d been in the middle of a hall full of loud children and adults overly interested in the lives of others, and worse, they were all very much awake.

 _“Why are you mad at Dad, Mom?”_ Nathan censured her and came to hug Severus as if to show her how she should be treating him.

Severus smiled at his boy, enclosing him in a one-arm hug for a short moment, and then looked back at Hermione. _“She’s not mad at me, Nathan. Are you, Hermione?”_

Still glaring, she walked to where they were standing and placed a peck on Severus’ cheek. _“Of course I am,”_ she told him, contradicting her attitude completely.

Her antagonistic behavior was making him both apprehensive and amused. If she were really angry at him, he would have felt it, right? If he couldn’t feel her anger, then maybe her words weren’t really heartfelt. He smirked. She narrowed her eyes at him. His smirk turned into a genuine smile.

 _“We have a meeting tomorrow, in any case,”_ Severus tried to placate her. Then, aiming for a distraction, he directed his question to Nathan, _“What were your plans for the evening?”_

 _“Since you’re not dreaming…”_ Nathan turned to his mother to ask, _“We’re still sticking to the plan, right?”_

 _“Yes, of course,”_ she answered, still very much vexed, he noticed. _“It’s Friday, there’s snow, and we’re going to the grounds; don’t ruin it,”_ Hermione told Severus gravely and left without waiting for them.

Well, maybe she was a bit angry after all.

 _“She doesn’t like surprises, is all,”_ Nathan told him, keeping that happy little smile in place. _“Come on. You won’t like it if she has to come back for us.”_

The snow covering the grounds of Hogwarts was bright in the moonlight—shiny, even, as if it had a light of its own. Severus walked side by side with Hermione, too lost in bitter thoughts to appreciate the unnatural brightness. Like Hermione, he didn’t like surprises, and going for a walk through the grounds of the castle wasn’t what he’d planned for this evening. Also not on his list was spending time with a moody Hermione.

 _“You’re still upset,”_ he decided to comment, that high was his level of annoyance with her behavior.

 _“Well, that goes without saying. You’re a constant source of frustration.”_ She looked everywhere but at him, and it was infuriating, until she added, her voice lower than usual, _“I’m worried.”_

Severus frowned. She was starting to worry him, too, but probably for completely different reasons. _“Worried about what?”_ he asked tentatively, avoiding the word “who” with cost but trying very hard not to show it. 

Hermione didn’t answer, and they stood next to each other in silence. Severus realized Nathan was ahead of them but had stopped also—only he was busy with the snow. When Severus was about to take advantage of the boy’s distance to press her for an answer, her voice reached him, strangled.

 _“I’m very concerned about you.”_ She turned to him, then, and what hit him on the chest were waves of something familiar but very much underneath much sharper feelings. The fact that she’d _told_ him that what she felt was concern was what kept him from trembling with nerves. _“I thought you cared for our future,”_ she added.

 _“You were supposed to be building your forts!”_ Nathan yelled from where he was, now behind a pile of snow. It called his parents’ attention in time for both to see him take an amount of snow from the ground. _“Ready or not!”_ A snowball missed Hermione’s shoulder, but not by far.

 _“Hey!”_ She quickly went for some snow to throw back at Nathan, and taking an already dumbfounded Severus completely off guard, placed him between her and Nathan. One snowball passed close to his left leg, and the next one hit him square on the chest. 

This was war. Severus ran for protection.

~o0oOo0o~

Panting, held to the snowy ground with surprising strength by Nathan, Severus conceded defeat. _“I’m much too old for this.”_

Hermione laughed, picking herself up from the ground. _“Off your poor, old father,”_ she told their son. She offered a hand to help Severus up when Nathan was off him. He took her hand, but instead of leaving the ground, Severus pulled her down to him. 

Face to face with her, Severus held Hermione firmly by the waist. _“Maybe not that old,”_ he pointed out before kissing her lips for the first time that night—very satisfying.

 _“Would you stop that?”_ Nathan asked. _“It’s disgusting_ and _embarrassing.”_

Hermione ended the kiss and smiled adoringly at Severus in that way he could only answer by smiling back. She punched him lightly on the chest. _“You, Slytherin, you,”_ she said before rolling over to his side. 

Severus held a hand out for Nathan. _“Help us up,”_ he told the boy. 

Nathan looked calculatingly at the stretched hand. _“You’re pulling me to the ground, aren’t you?”_

 _“Are you denying your old man a hand?”_ Severus inquired in his best intimidating voice.

Nathan hesitated only another second, but fell for it. As soon as their hands touched, Severus pulled Nathan, screaming protests of unfairness, to the snow between him and Hermione. 

Severus couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard and of pure happiness—one that felt permanent. How could lying there in the snow with his son and woman after such a display of carefree silliness be so fulfilling? Maybe he knew even less about happiness than he’d originally thought.

Not much later, already back into the warmth of his quarters, Hermione’s cheerfulness and talkative nature had slipped off her soul’s exterior. With Nathan back to his own dormitory, Severus held her on the couch next to him in contemplative silence.

 _“You’re still worried,”_ Severus pointed out. _“Even after what we shared tonight, you’re still afraid that our future is in danger.”_

 _“What future?”_ she answered rhetorically.

_“Why, Hermione? I thought I’d proven that my intentions—”_

_“You can’t have both, Severus,”_ she told him. _“You can’t live in both realities forever. You’re torturing yourself by dreaming awake, trying to be here for your family, but letting us go the moment you wake up. Can’t you see that?”_

He knew she was right about the torture of waking up every day without them, but she was completely wrong if she thought he couldn’t ignore the pain for what he did have with them in dreams. Severus would never allow the certainty of what he had in dreams for the chance of losing everything.

 _“I want you in my_ life _, Severus, not only in my dreams. Come to me when we’re both awake. Come in the morning, spend the day with me. Give me a chance to remember you the way you really are. Let me_ know _how you feel about me, instead of leaving me to guess on the basis of intuition alone,”_ she pleaded, and he could feel her despair all too well.

What Severus could do was to pull her against his chest and hold her tight.

What Severus couldn’t do was go after her when she was awake.

~o0oOo0o~

“I was thinking that we could spend a different evening and have dinner in my quarters tonight,” Hermione said. 

She hoped Severus wouldn’t catch the real reason for her request; she could never tell him that she was more susceptible to his charms in his quarters, now, could she? The way he’d been looking at her as of late was enough to turn her resolve into nothing more than a lazy intent. No, she didn’t think she could take the risk. 

“Your quarters?” he questioned. 

When the expected indignation didn’t follow, Hermione felt obliged to answer politely, “Yes, just for a change, to see how Nathan reacts to a new dynamic.” Nathan, never herself.

“I have no objections,” he agreed without further ado. “Same time?”

Hermione felt suddenly insecure. “Yes, sure,” she confirmed. Not knowing what to do in his presence anymore, she turned to go, looking over her shoulder only for a quick moment before closing his office’s door behind her.

~o0oOo0o~

“Why are we staying here tonight?” Nathan questioned after seating himself on the couch to wait for his father.

“I thought it would be good to host the dinners from time to time. Polite, even, don’t you think?”

“If you say so….”

“You know it is. I taught you better than this, young man, so stop sulking. I remember very well who had to be dragged to the dungeons for these dinners only months ago, and it wasn’t me.”

“All right, but that was then. Now we play chess, and you don’t have a chess set here.”

“No, I don’t, but I’m sure we’ll find something else to entertain your poor, bored soul.”

“Does this change have anything to do with you being pants at chess?”

“Don’t be silly,” Hermione dismissed, still more focused on the paper she’d been scribbling on than anywhere else. She only noticed that some time had passed in silence when Nathan talked again.

“You know, you’re just like him sometimes,” he commented.

Her interest picked, she left the paper alone and turned her attention to Nathan. “What did you say?”

“I said that you’re just like my dad sometimes,” he repeated, confirming what she thought she’d heard, and added, “He also studies and works all the time, even when he’s talking to other people.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, feeling chastised. She left her papers on the desk and joined her son on the couch. “I didn’t mean to divide my attention.” She smiled apologetically. “I’m all yours, now.”

“It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not.” Hermione brushed his fringe out of his eyes. “You need a haircut,” she observed. 

He jerked away. “I want to grow it.”

“Don’t tell me you want to have your father’s hair?” She frowned.

Nathan shrugged.

She suppressed a sigh and reached for his hair again. “You’re handsome the way you are. There’s no need to change anything.”

He jerked away again. “Then let my hair be.”

Hermione knew it was a moot point. “Only if you let me give you a squishy kiss on the cheek.” She pulled him by the hand.

“Mom, I don’t want a kiss, let alone a squishy one.”

“But I do. Come here.” She tugged, managing to put her arms around him in a hug. Nathan resisted only half-heartedly, soon giving up and letting her have her loud way with his cheek. She laughed when she noticed that he was blushing.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus heard the noises coming from Hermione’s quarters when he approached. Recognizing her laugher, he paused before the door to let his memories fill him with her waves of joy. The feeling was enhanced when he could also hear his son laughing. Severus felt an almost tug at his soul to jump inside and join them; he knocked.

Nathan came to answer the door, flushed and grinning broadly. “Hi, Dad!”

Hermione was sitting comfortably on the couch, but she stood promptly to greet him, her shoulders stiffened. “Good evening.”

“Good evening.”

Where did the laughing woman go? She didn’t act as if she were relaxed in his presence, like she usually did when she was asleep, and it made Severus want to take her in his arms and reassure her. Her pleading eyes the night before, when she’d asked him to come to her when she was awake, haunted him, and he felt awkward denying her the comfort now.

“I dreamed of you last night,” Nathan told him, grinning still, and broke Severus’ descend into the darkness of his soul.

“Having nightmares?” Severus asked the boy, embittered, belatedly aware of Hermione’s eyes and ears on the conversation.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “Of course not. We were having a snowball fight on the grounds.” There it was again, that smile so charged with happiness.

Severus glanced at Hermione in time to register her puzzlement. Could she remember, too? If she could, she didn’t mention it.

“I don’t suppose we could actually go outside now, could we?” Nathan asked.

“It’s too dark outside,” Severus answered. 

Hermione, standing with her hands on Nathan’s shoulders, was looking oddly at him. Severus brought back his words for examination but found nothing wrong with them. He tried to set his unease aside as paranoia, but it just wouldn’t go away.

Although he was more reserved with his words from that point on, joining in the subsequent conversations with care, Severus seemed to have little control over his traitorous eyes. They went out to Hermione whenever she did something that reminded him of their nights together.

“More wine, Severus?” she offered some time later.

“No, thank you.” _Bloody wine,_ he thought while he let go of the empty goblet.

The evening progressed without surprises in Severus’ point of view, but that didn’t take away the mingling sensation that something had gone terribly wrong during the evening. When he wished her a good night and walked Nathan to Gryffindor Tower, Severus had a clue on why.

“Thank you for being nice to Mom tonight,” his son said.

Not wanting to make things worse than they already seemed to be, Severus only nodded.

“It’s good to see you hanging around.”

“Good night, Nathan,” Severus said, wanting the subject ended.

“Good night, Dad.”

Severus walked to the dungeons, certain that he’d made a complete fool of himself that night.

~o0oOo0o~

“Granger.”

Nathan turned to the voice and saw that Malfoy was walking towards him. Andy and Kevin stopped, too, to wait for him. Nathan frowned. Malfoy looked determined and formal when he stood in front of the Gryffindors and stretched a hand holding an envelope.

“What’s this?” Nathan asked suspiciously.

“An invitation, what else,” Malfoy answered moodily.

Nathan hadn’t made to take it. “An invitation for what?”

“I told Father that you were uncivilized,” Malfoy told him disdainfully. “Are you going to make me hold it forever?”

Nathan finally took the offered envelope. “An invitation for what?” he insisted.

“My birthday party. I hope you’re otherwise occupied on the date and can’t come.” Malfoy turned from the group of confused Gryffindors and walked quickly on the opposite direction, disappearing in a corner down the corridor.

“What?” Kevin finally reacted.

“Malfoy invited Nathan to his birthday party,” Andy answered and gained pointed looks from both friends.

“We know that,” Kevin dismissed. “What we _don’t_ know is why.”

Andy shrugged. Nathan decided to open the envelope, his friends looking curiously over his shoulders.

“It’s his twelfth birthday party, Sunday next…” Nathan read to them.

“At Malfoy Manor,” Kevin added with palpable disgust.

“Yeah,” Andy agreed.

“He obviously doesn’t want me to go, so why bother inviting me in the first place?” Nathan wondered while he returned the parchment to its envelope and put it into his book bag.

Andy shrugged.

“Maybe he was obliged to. You know, your father is the Head of Slytherin House,” Kevin said, also shrugging. “Are you going?”

They walked down the corridor, entered the Transfiguration classroom, and Nathan still had no idea. “Do you think I should go?”

“I wouldn’t!” Kevin was quick to express his opinion.

“I wasn’t invited, but I don’t think I would go either way. He’s Malfoy, you know,” Andy agreed.

“Hmm.” Nathan was too intrigued by the invitation to dismiss it so quickly. Professor Lancey arrived and started the class, forcing Nathan to forget Malfoy and his invitation for the time being.

~o0oOo0o~

Wednesday, when Nathan was having tea and playing chess with his father, he had yet to decide what to do about Malfoy’s invitation. The day before, he had finally worked out a plausible explanation for why he had been invited: he was Snape’s son and Snape was Malfoy’s godfather. Now, all he had to do was find out if his father wanted him to go to the stupid party.

“Dad,” Nathan called.

“Yes.”

“I was invited to Malfoy’s birthday party. Should I go?” There, he’d asked.

His father lifted his eyes from the chessboard, then. He frowned at Nathan. “An invitation, you say?”

“Yes. Malfoy shoved it at me before Transfiguration on Monday.”

His father rolled his eyes before moving a pawn and saying, “It was probably Draco’s idea. Is this party here at Hogwarts?”

“No,” Nathan answered. “It’s at Malfoy Manor. Is it actually a manor?”

“I thought as much, and yes, it’s actually a manor,” his father answered.

Nathan moved a tower while he waited for his father to say something else. When he didn’t, Nathan asked again, “So… Should I go?”

“Do you want to go?” his father returned the question.

“I don’t know. I have no idea what’s expected of me,” Nathan admitted.

“Expected?” his father asked, looking intently at him.

“Well…” Nathan started. How could he explain his dilemma without seeming unknowledgeable? “You’re his godfather, and I’m your son, now, so… am I not expected to go?”

His father’s expression didn’t change at all for the entire time they’d stared at each other, Nathan waiting for an answer. 

At length, his father finally answered, sort of, “The Malfoys are expecting you to accept their invitation, but I have no expectations.”

Nathan felt like groaning. That didn’t help him _at all_! He decided to change his question. “Are you going?”

“I am probably expected to go,” the man answered without taking his eyes from the chessboard.

“Is that a yes?” Nathan asked, losing patience with the evasive answers.

His father kept his head down but raised his eyes to look at him, keeping Nathan waiting until Nathan rose an eyebrow.

The man sighed. “You may come with me.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “All right.” 

He made stupid moves to end the game quickly after that. Nathan didn’t know what sort of answer he’d been waiting for, but he knew that the one he got wasn’t it. Maybe he should have outright refused the stupid invitation.

~o0oOo0o~

“Where do you think you’re going, dressed like this?”

 _Hello to you, too, Dad,_ Nathan thought. “I thought we were going to Malfoy’s party.”

“You’re in Muggle garments.”

“It’s a suit. Grandmother always says I look distinguished in it,” he offered as an explanation, knowing quite well that his choice of what Muggle attire to wear wasn’t the issue, but rather the fact that what he was wearing was Muggle in the first place. “I thought the party was formal, since Malfoy is such a pompous—“

“You’ll want to watch your words,” his father cut him, his tone dangerous, and then returning to the point… “You can’t attend an event in Malfoy Manor wearing Muggle attire, no matter how formal it looks.”

 _Killjoy,_ Nathan thought. His intention of shocking the traditional wizarding society was blasted by his own traditionalist father.

“Where are your dress robes?” the man asked. “Don’t say you don’t have any because I know quite well what was on the list you received with your Hogwarts letter.”

“Will you make me go all the way back upstairs just to change into them?”

His father simply crossed his arms over his chest and glared. Nathan sighed. When he turned to head out of the man’s quarters, his father told him, “I’ll meet you in the Entrance Hall in fifteen minutes and not a minute later, or you’ll be staying behind.”

~o0oOo0o~

Twenty minutes later, Gryffindor’s prefect walked into the first-years’ dormitory.

“Professor Snape is by the Fat Lady, and he doesn’t seem very happy. He says you’re to meet him there right this minute, Mr. Granger.”

“Damn,” Nathan cursed.

“You said he’d gone without you!” Andy commented, horrified.

“He said he would, if I didn’t show up in fifteen minutes.” Nathan shrugged.

“You’re dead,” were the prefect’s parting words.

“I have to agree with Thomas,” Kevin said.

Nathan sighed, took his wrinkled dress robes from his trunk, and changed carelessly into them. When he crossed the common room, heads turned to watch him. Nathan felt it was easy to ignore them in face of the apprehension building inside as his mind worried about what part of Snape’s personality would meet him outside.

“Walk,” the man said upon seeing him. His next words came only when they were already crossing the grounds. “We’ll have a conversation about punctuality when we’re back.”

Nathan had nothing to say in rebuttal, and when they Apparated to the so-called Malfoy Manor, he lost the last few words he had. His father turned to him, adding to his nerves. Part of it was due to the man’s critical regard, but the rest was because the sight of the building ahead was admittedly intimidating. Uncle Harry’s house was big—the biggest Nathan had been to—but this house wasn’t only huge, but also very imposing. Nathan’s eyes focused on his father’s when the man straightened the collar of his robes and touched his wand to his shoulders, unwrinkling the dark-gray fabric under his winter coat, all the time talking under his breath and frowning. 

“Pay attention,” the man said in a clearer voice. “Your presence will attract some attention to us, and not all of it will be pleasant.” Nathan gulped in a nervous reaction to his father’s seriousness. “You are a Gryffindor…” Nathan’s worry abated slightly at that observation, taken as an encouragement until… “Try to keep from acting foolhardily and making things even worse by getting into trouble.” An arched eyebrow completed the admonishment.

Past the feet he was staring so intently at, the clean rocks puzzled Nathan. The snow didn’t seem to fall on those they were standing on, the ones that lead the way to a high, ornate gate. Nathan heard his father sigh and felt even more out of place. 

“Let’s get this over with,” the man said and headed for the gates. Nathan followed.

The house looked empty when they entered. Had they come to the right place? A house-elf popped in, and the sound echoed through the marble walls. “Professor Severus, sir.” The small creature bowed and then eyed Nathan with big eyes that didn’t make the boy feel any less uncomfortable. The small elf offered to take their coats, and only then did Nathan notice the difference in his father’s clothes. They were still black robes, but there was a glamorous touch to the fabric of this set, and something shone on the lapel—a pin of some kind. Nathan had never seen his father wearing jewelry of any kind before.

“Severus! What a pleasure!” 

The loud greeting almost made Nathan jump. He couldn’t see the feet hidden under the layers of the woman’s green, voluminous dress. 

“And I see that you brought company! How wonderful!” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Nathan looked straight into them.

“Ms. Malfoy.” Nathan watched his father take the woman’s hand by the fingers and brush his lips on them. Nathan held back a frown. “Nathan, my son.”

“Enchanted.” Another fake smile that went without response. 

“I believe I’ll find my godson in the ballroom?” 

“Indeed, you will. He’ll be delighted to see you, Severus.” Then, looking down at Nathan, she added, “And you, too, of course.” 

How many fake smiles would he get that day, Nathan wondered as he followed the adults.

The sound of music and conversation finally reached Nathan’s ears, betraying that there was indeed a party going on in the interior of the manor. The people gathered there turned to watch them enter, and like his father had warned, their presence resulted in curiosity and side-conversation. Nathan decided not to feel uncomfortable. Malfoy’s father approached them.

“Severus,” the blond greeted with a smile and a respectful shake of hands. “I was starting to think that I’d have to send a house-elf after you.” Then, turning to Nathan… “I’m glad you accepted my son’s invitation, Mr. Snape.”

Nathan took the outstretched hand but corrected, “It’s Granger, sir.”

Snape interceded quickly, before the awkwardness in the other man’s eyes extended to awkward words. “We should find Devon and deliver our greetings. If you’ll excuse us…”

When they were out of ear’s shot, Snape held Nathan back by the shoulder. “No one here will address you by Granger. Don’t correct them.” 

“But—” Nathan started, but before he could, the birthday boy found them. 

“Uncle Severus!” The boy’s smile disappeared when he saw who was with his beloved godfather. “Granger.”

Nathan almost laughed, looking pointedly at his father at how Malfoy had addressed him. When he turned his attention back to Malfoy, the boy looked like he’d eaten rotten lemon, by the face he was making. 

“Surprise!” Nathan mocked, trying hard to maintain a straight face.

Seeming oblivious to the obvious animosity between the boys, Snape took a package from his pocket and gave it to Devon, saying, “Nathan and I want you to accept this gift in celebration of your birthday.”

Nathan frowned at how his father had included him on a gift he didn’t even know about, but watched everything unfold in silence for once.

“Thank you, Uncle Severus.”

Nathan sensed his father’s eyes on him and forced out a small “Happy birthday.”

Malfoy ignored Nathan; he was too busy opening the package and taking the lid off the box within. Nathan made a great show of disinterest in what the box contained, but it became a surprisingly difficult task when the Slytherin ginned with genuine fondness at Nathan’s father.

“May I assume that you’re pleased with the gift?” Snape asked Malfoy.

“I’ll know for sure when I find out what it is,” the boy answered without losing the easy smile.

“I believe it’ll be quicker now that you’re at Hogwarts,” Snape told Malfoy, intriguing Nathan even more.

Nathan looked from his father to Malfoy and back, but they didn’t seem to notice him there. “What’s in the box?” Nathan finally asked.

As if just only remembering Nathan there, his father looked down at him and said, “Perhaps you could find out together. I’ll leave you boys to it.”

“But…” Malfoy tried to protest, but Snape turned and walked away to where Malfoy’s father was standing amongst other important-looking wizards.

Nathan became suddenly aware that he’d been left to his own luck with Malfoy. “What’s in the box?” he asked again.

“It’s none of your business.”

“It wasn’t what _my dad_ just implied.”

Malfoy glared at him, but Nathan refused to melt. “ _My godfather_ always gives me something Potions related that I haven’t seen before, an ingredient most times.”

Nathan frowned.

“As I said, it’s none of your business.” Malfoy turned to walk away, but something made him stop midway and walk back to where Nathan had remained standing. “You have to follow me to the other room.”

“Why?” 

“Because you do.” Malfoy took off again, and this time Nathan followed.

“Why can’t I stay in this room?” Nathan insisted, privately dreading to have to leave his father’s presence.

“Because you can’t!” Malfoy snapped. “Why did you show up at my party, anyway?”

“My dad made me come. I’d be having ten times more fun if I’d stayed to finish my History of Magic essay, I’m quite certain.”

“Whatever, Granger. Just try to keep out of my way and not ruin my birthday.” Malfoy bypassed him, purposefully knocking his shoulder on his way to a cluster of boys. Nathan recognized three Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff, and… a den of Slytherins. 

Nathan sighed. Why had he showed up to this damned party, indeed!

~o0oOo0o~

Severus interacted with new and old Malfoy acquaintances with minimum attention. He had years of practice and knew quite well how to mingle without actually doing so. He was in a circle of meaningless conversation, his mind on what was happening on the adjacent ballroom. From time to time, Severus would take a round, plain vial from his pocket and take a look at the color of its content. He was doing that again exactly when he heard Draco’s voice.

“Is there something the matter?”

“Draco,” he said, hiding the vial and working on a cover for his surprise at being caught unaware. “One hardly sees the time pass at such _enjoyable_ gatherings.” Maybe Draco would buy the idea that he had been simply consulting a pocket watch.

“What was that in your pocket?”

No such luck, it seemed. “A potion vial,” Severus answered, revealing only a facet of the truth as he’d done so well for so many years.

Draco frowned slightly. “Are you feeling all right?”

Severus sighed. “I’m fine,” he reassured. It hadn’t been his intention to worry the host.

“You were more evasive than usual this afternoon. It was like you weren’t here at all, as if you had your mind elsewhere. Are you sure there’s nothing the matter?”

 _Very perceptive_ , Severus thought. “I am.”

Draco shook his head but didn’t insist, changing the subject of their conversation to something Severus could give his usual share of attention, instead. The potion in his pocket showed that Nathan wasn’t about to punch or hex anyone, but it didn’t leave Severus carefree, either. It had gone from neutral colors to more somber ones as the afternoon advanced, making Severus wonder what was making his boy sad in the other room.

He’d somehow expected more vibrant colors, which would have meant his son’s anger, thus showing Severus that he would need to intervene to keep a scene from happening. The sad hues he’d been seeing for more than an hour, instead, were keeping Severus even more alert. It was unexpected and worrisome. 

Others joined their circle of conversation, and Severus was yet to add more than grunts to it. He wasn’t so distracted not to notice when the conversation stopped altogether, though. Severus turned to the source of the other’s curiosity.

Nathan approached and locked his dark eyes, bigger than how Severus remembered them, with his. “Professor Snape,” his son called, eyes never leaving his as if hoping that those listening closely to their conversation were invisible. “I was wondering how much longer we’ll be staying, sir.”

“You must be young Mr. Snape.” 

Nathan seemed vulnerable when he was forced to turn his eyes and look at Ms. Ollerton. Severus expected him to answer as he’d done Draco, but what Nathan said was much more worrisome.

“I suppose I am, ma’am.” 

“You have your father’s eyes,” Ms. Ollerton commented.

“Thank Merlin the boy didn’t inherit the Prince nose,” Mr. Ollerton added, maybe louder than he’d intended. 

Ms. Ollerton laughed at her husband’s tasteless joke, but no one else around them joined her, preferring cautious neutrality where Severus was concerned. He was still known for surviving the Dark Lord, and everybody knew it wasn’t for nothing. 

Severus’ attention was on Nathan, though. The boy looked shyly at him, pleading with his eyes to be taken home. “Draco, I’m afraid I’ve left work waiting for me back at Hogwarts. It’s been a lovely afternoon.”

“Won’t you stay a little longer?”

“I’m afraid it won’t be possible.”

“You’re going already?” Severus hadn’t seen Devon approach. “But you can’t go! You haven’t eaten any birthday cake, yet!”

“Devon…” Pansy admonished.

“Thank you for coming, Uncle Severus,” the boy said halfheartedly and then belatedly added, “Nathan.” 

“Always a pleasure,” Severus answered politely. “If you’d excuse us…” He bowed, took Nathan, and left.

Not long after, they stood just outside the gates of Malfoy Manor. Nathan put his arms around Severus, ready for the Apparition that would take them back home.

Severus didn’t Apparate right away, though. He encircled his son with his arms, instead, holding him to his chest in a furtive hug. He felt Nathan’s shoulder sag and knew he’d done well. Only then did Severus Apparate them to the gates of Hogwarts.

“I’m sorry.” Nathan broke the silence as soon as they were on the cold Scotland air with the words that infuriated Severus the most.

Severus sighed. “Why do you apologize?” 

“I made you leave before the cake.”

Severus snorted. “Do you really think I’d have wanted to stay?”

Nathan shrugged.

“Nathan, look at me.”

The boy did, and Severus examined him thoroughly for hexes or poisoning. Nathan didn’t protest. Severus found nothing.

“Did you drink or eat something Devon gave you?” he asked.

It was Nathan’s time to snort.

“What happened, then?”

“Nothing. I was bored to death.”

At last, an answer that seemed more like his son. Seemed… Severus knew better than to take it as the whole story. There was more to it, but he would be content with any sign of normalcy. 

That night, Severus went to bed only after he’d watched the potion on his flat vial turn a light green, informing him that Nathan had fallen into a tranquil sleep. His first stop after he’d cast the Anima Liberta spell was his son’s quarters, and he was relieved to see his soul as cheerful as ever. Severus was glad of children’s capacity to forgive and forget.

~o0oOo0o~

In the middle of the subsequent week, Severus’ soul, freed and conscious, entered Hermione’s apartment through the front door and was assaulted by the now usual scent of spices coming from the kitchen area. Severus’ new-found addiction was to watch Hermione cook. He stood beside her, watching her stir a pan of tomato sauce and humming with her the same tune that was coming from the living room.

It was the same intoxicating happiness and wellbeing of most evenings with her until he heard a male voice calling out to Hermione over the soothing strains of the music and made Severus turn in its direction with amazing speed, shocked.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help with dinner?” the Muggle asked her, entering the small kitchen now.

“Positive,” she answered, smiling with ease at the Muggle. 

Severus’ eyes, already big, went wider yet when the Muggle hugged Hermione from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. 

“Here, taste for yourself.” She offered some sauce on the palm of her hand to the Muggle, who licked and hummed.

“I agree; you don’t need any help with dinner.” The Muggle kissed her on the cheek and let go of her. “I’ll set the table. May I?” 

Hermione laughed lightly, and Severus’ heart ached enough to make his eyes sting. “Yes, you may.”

“Where do you keep the tableware?”

She laughed again, and Severus left before his chest burst open, missing the rest of their interaction. Severus had seen enough, anyway. His first impulse to flee and protect himself from the pain was quickly turning into loss and resentment, but what struck and stayed was anger. 

Instead of going back to his body, he stayed and watched. It could be considered masochistic, but he wanted to know—needed, even, to understand—how his dream had become such a nightmare in a matter of seconds. 

They ate dinner in friendly conversation about their day-to-day affairs, laughing and exchanging sweetness through their eyes. Hermione smiled and blushed when the Muggle flattered her. The Muggle didn’t let an opportunity to touch her hands pass. It was sick, but Severus watched.

They moved to the sofa, and arms were tangled, heads were held tenderly. Severus turned his head away when their lips touched, but only time enough to renew his anger and determination and turn to look ahead again, watching he two kiss in heated passion. 

Clinically, now, Severus could see her touching the Muggle the way she touched him. Analytically, he observed that she kissed the other man the way she kissed him. Methodically, he watched she let those foreign hands slide over her hair as if they were his—Severus’—hands.

And she smiled.

And the bastard smiled back.

And Severus finally tensed his face in disgust and decided he’d wait to tell her how much he despised her somewhere she wasn’t snogging a Muggle behind his back. Severus decided he’d stay and show her how little he thought of her. Even if it was all to disguise how empty he felt, hollow, bleeding through his anger and hurting in every bit of his soul, he’d make her listen to all he had to say about treachery.

Severus went to her bedroom and waited there. He both wanted and didn’t want her to come to bed, and when she entered the room, he didn’t have the courage to see if she was alone. He remained sitting on the bed with his eyes closed, and when he didn’t feel it move, he felt strong enough to open his eyes. Something instantly filled part of the hollow in his soul: she was alone.

Now it was only a matter of time until she fell asleep. 

And Severus would not look back when she howled in pain at the mercy of his cutting tongue.

_“Oh, dear Severus…”_

He closed his eyes at hearing her sweet voice calling his name. The moment of truth had come; Severus had his back to her sleeping form.

 _“Don’t talk to me,”_ he rasped.

 _“Severus…”_ Her voice was a whisper, but his whole soul shivered at the pain emanating from it. 

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Severus’ jumped to his feet, electrocuted into rage over his loss.

 _“Don’t touch me! Those… dirty hands of yours…”_ His face might as well show his disgust for her in its twisted lines.

_“Severus, please—”_

_“Why did you do this to me? How could you let those filthy lips kiss you and enjoy it?!”_

_“I couldn’t—”_

_“In fact, why didn’t you bring him into your bed and finish the job?”_

_“Because I don’t feel anything for him.”_

_“Liar!”_

_“I’m not lying; I never lied to you.”_

_“Don’t talk to me,”_ he gritted through his teeth. _“Don’t try to tell me you weren’t enjoying every minute while those dirty hands were all over you, Hermione, because you’d be lying! I saw the way you kissed him, the way you groped him.”_ He showed how disgusted he felt. 

_“Why did you stay? Why didn’t you leave when you saw what I was going to—”_

_“Shut up!”_ he raged. _“I don’t want to hear your voice!”_

_“Severus…”_

_“You’re a fucking liar, Hermione. How can you betray me so lightly? You said you loved me and then…”_ His face twisted into disgust. _“You let his disgusting hands go all over you. You give your mouth to him. You laugh with him…”_

_“But it’s you whom I love.”_

_“Liar!”_

A tear ran down her face. _“I love you,”_ she whispered.

_“No, you don’t!”_

_“I tried to warn you that this was going to happen…”_

He shook his head in denial.

_“…that you couldn’t have both—”_

_“I don’t want to hear this.”_

_“—when I realized that you wouldn’t look for me—”_

_“Shut up!”_

_“—I knew this was going to happen—”_

_“Shut the fuck UP!”_

She did. He breathed hard through his nostrils. 

_“This is not. My. Fault! Do you hear me?! It’s NOT!”_

She took a step closer, and Severus could feel her love for him emanating from her soul, but instead of reassuring him, it hurt. 

_“Don’t give up,”_ she pleaded. _“Feel my love. Fight for me, Severus. Don’t let me slip through your fingers. I beg you, please, fight for our love.”_

He looked down at her, so close to him she was, and the only thing that left his lips was the breathed Latin of the incantation that sent him back into his body—and for the last time, he promised himself.

That night he cried himself to sleep, vowing that he would never go to Hermione again.

He vouched to never fall in love again.

~o0oOo0o~

On Friday, Severus was at the door to her quarters at Hogwarts, and as soon as she opened it, he came in, grabbing her clumsily by the waist and swirling them both around so she was pressed with her back against the door, which finished closing with the weight of their bodies. Besides a squeak of surprise, she didn’t have time to say a thing before his mouth claimed hers. His urgency was breathtaking, literally.

“Severus?” she managed when he left her lips time enough to do so. She’d felt the taste of Firewhisky in his mouth, knew he couldn’t be in his right mind, and yet her eyes were heavy and her hands closed tightly around his arms.

“Lovely lips,” was his answer before he assaulted them again. 

Tongues entwined, and Hermione fought to have a clear-minded thought. She knew she shouldn’t be answering his passionate kisses, but that was out of the question, humanly impossible, even. His hand tangled in her hair at the back of her head, and she knew she should not allow this to go on, but his fingers felt heavenly on her scalp. 

He came up for air again. When had she closed her eyes? His were half-lidded. _God, look at his wet, thoroughly kissed lips!_

“You have horrid hair,” those sexy lips said. 

_Damn!_ She should be glad he’d said that, or she would never have come to her senses. “Severus, you’re not in your right mind.” She had to put an end to it, and God helped her if she didn’t succeed.

“I thought you liked kissing me,” he retorted, too close to her ear for her body not to react.

“Severus,” she tried to admonish.

“Hermione….” 

_Holy crap!_ She melted at the way he’d spoken her name, there, inches from her ear, before nipping at it.

“Severus, you have to stop.” It was nothing more than a whisper, but it finally made him take his nose from the crook of her neck and look at her in the eyes.

“I don’t want you to stop,” she assured him, “but you’re drunk, and you would never forgive me if I let you ravish me in this state—God, what am I saying?” She placed a short kiss on his still too-damn-inviting lips. 

“But I want to ravish you.” A soft, open-mouthed kiss and a flick of a tongue. “I need to have you.” A pull on curly hair. “I need to get you out of my bloody mind.” Sharp teeth closing on soft flesh. “You’re driving me insane.” A whisper against white skin.

“It’s wrong….” Who was she trying to convince, him or herself?

“Wrong…” he agreed, his speech slurred by the alcohol, and then he licked her throat.

She shivered and held him by the hair, bringing his eyes to hers. “It’s wrong.”

He lowered his gaze. “You have lovely lips.” He’d already said that, and she filed the information for later use. 

“So do you,” she complimented and brushed her thumb lightly over his lower lip. His eyes fluttered shut. She sighed. _Why did you have to be pissed?_ Hermione pushed him slowly away and grabbed the doorknob. “Come back when you’re sober.”

“I’m not drunk,” he said lamely but left without further protest. 

Hermione closed the door and leaned on it again, this time without him weighing on her. “Good Lord!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe! Drunk kisses… tsk. What were you thinking, Severus? Well, we kind of know what you were thinking. *lol*
> 
>  **Coming next…** The final blow to Severus’ walls, and another Prince’s tale.


	34. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final blow to Severus’ walls, and another Prince’s tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

Severus was not at breakfast. Severus was not at lunch. Severus was not in the lab that Saturday afternoon, nor was he in his office at any time of the day.

Hermione was as patient as she could manage, trying very hard not to get her hopes too high. It wouldn’t do for her to go knocking on his door, demanding words she didn`t know he was capable of saying. It wouldn’t do, either, to throw away the balance she had worked so hard to achieve from the moment she’d decided she had to move on and get over Severus.

Yes, the night before had shifted some of the foundation of her carefully built balance, a fact that was undeniable. It was also good for her mind’s health to remember how completely drunk Severus had been. She needed to keep that in mind and remain calm, centered.

Hermione looked in the mirror one last time and contemplated her plain clothes, light make-up and unruly hair. 

“Let’s go, Nathan.”

And as carefree as she could, Hermione went to the dungeons for their usual Saturday dinner, hoping she would keep herself composed when she met him.

Severus was silent and expressionless when he admitted her and Nathan into his quarters. Hermione was reminded of how he’d used to carry himself during the Order meetings as he kept a calculating eye on her while talking to Nathan. She played his game during dinner, making Nathan the center of every conversation, but when dinner was over…

“You go on, honey. I have a few things I want to discuss with your father.”

“All right. Good night, Dad.”

Severus nodded stiffly.

“Good night, Mom.” Nathan hugged her and left.

She was alone with Severus. He held himself rigidly by the fireplace, looking intently at the fire. Hermione waited for him to say something, anything—he surely knew why she’d stayed behind. She should remain calm and rational. She should wait for him to make the first move. She should be patient and just wait. She should, but…

“Severus…”

He looked away from the fire and fixed her with a blank face. “I apologize,” he finally said.

As neutral and cool as she managed, Hermione quietly answered, “I don’t want your apologies.” She approached him, never losing contact with his eyes, looking for an expression in them. “Yesterday, you—”

“Yesterday, I wasn’t myself, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Yesterday, you were drunk,” she confirmed.

He nodded once and hid his eyes from her, placing his hair between them. “Again, I apologize.”

“You don’t have to; this is not why I stayed behind.” 

She knew she was waiting in vain, but she still hoped he would say something other than these polite apologies. She wanted to hear from him why he’d kissed her. She wanted him to tell her what had made him go after her, what had changed. 

All she heard was his loud sigh.

“I wasn’t in my right mind. Obviously, my apologies aren’t enough for you, as you’re still waiting for Merlin knows what.” 

He finally looked at her with some expression—which was much preferable to none at all, even if what the lines around his eyes showed was annoyance.

She bit at her lower lip while she contemplated the odds of going right to the point. They didn’t seem promising, if his angry eyes were telling her anything. She risked an opening. 

“There were things you said to me last night that I believe we should discuss.” 

He shook his head in a negative gesture. “Nothing I said last night merits discussion. I was _drunk_.”

“And therefore last night never happened, is that what you’re saying?” His attitude was making her lose the patience she had harbored so carefully during the day.

“I wasn’t in my right mind, and you know it.”

“You said it already, but that’s beside the point—”

“No, it’s not!” he snapped. 

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one with a lack of patience at the moment. She took a deep breath and calmly said, “Something has obviously changed in the way you see me, or you wouldn’t have knocked on my door last night.”

He glared. She took his hostility with calm and waited. He bowed his head, rubbing his forehead with a hand, and at that moment, he seemed very tired.

“I’m a man, Hermione. You’re a beautiful woman.”

He’d said she was beautiful.

“And I have lovely lips,” she added.

He quickly looked back at her, showing his surprise. She smiled at him, amused. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“I said that, didn’t I?”

“Twice.” Her smile widened, but she soon lost the mirth. “I never made any secret of my feelings for you. If something has changed in yours for me, I want to know.”

“What would your Muggle lover have to say about that?”

That took her by surprise. She hadn’t spared a thought to William since the very first touch of Severus’ fingers on her skin the night before. Then she caught herself and narrowed her eyes. How could he know about William? “Sharpening your spy skills?” she accused. “I’d prefer if we left William out of this.”

“And I’d prefer if we would—” he hesitated “—forget about last night.”

She took a step closer to him. “And yet the question remains: could we?”

She watched his eyes dance on her face, stopping on her lips, and she held her breath, thinking he might kiss her. She licked them. He turned away.

“Stop tempting me, woman! Do you think it’s prudent to make me lose control around you?”

“Do you want to lose control around me?”

“No!”

“You’ve said it yourself: you’re a man, and I’m a woman. Why can’t we be together if that’s clearly what we want?”

He lightly shook his head, his back still to her. He was fighting it; he was trying to shun her again. 

“No,” Hermione shook her head, too. “Not this time, you won’t.” She walked around him to make him look at her. Her hand rested on his chest, searching for his heart, and felt his hitched breath. He grimaced, his eyes tightly shut. “Don’t fight it,” she asked softly. “Please.” Her face joined her hand on his chest, feeling him shudder with an exhaled breath. She held him to her, listening to his heart beat faster than hers.

She would never let him go.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus tried to keep in control of his will. _If she doesn’t step back... I can’t… Merlin, I want to kiss her._ He fixed his eyes on the table ahead. With an enormous effort, he held her by the shoulders and pushed her at arms’ length. Bypassing her, he looked for stability from the table, feeling the wood with his cold palms and hoping the solid surface would ground him.

“We’re getting nowhere with this meeting, Hermione. I don’t even know why you stayed behind.”

“Stop hiding from me,” she told him and pulled at his arm, trying to turn him to her.

Her voice was powerful in him, and it only made it hurt more. He resisted. “Leave, Hermione.” _Why does she have to touch me?_

“Look at me, Severus.”

 _A whisper from Hell!_

He gave in and met the devil. He mastered his emotions the best he could and hoped his eyes showed only a cruel desire to make her suffer.

“Why do you think I need to hide from you?” _Who’s the devil, now?_ “This is me, Hermione! Look at the man capable of taking you against your will. Look at me and run while you still can. This meeting is over.”

Her hand left his arm and came to gently caress his face. He should have pushed her away when her fingers brushed his forehead, but he didn’t. Her fingers ran the path of his eyebrow.

“Drop the mask,” she whispered. “This is not you. I want to see the real you, Severus.”

He closed his eyes—a brief flutter of his eyelids—and looked back at her. Why was he doing this? Why were those fingers, followed by the feel of her sincerity, bringing him down? 

He was bare to her, as he’d been to her soul.

“Beautiful,” she breathed, cupping his jaw in her hand. Her thumb brushed his lower lip. 

His hands gained life, and his fingers were lost in her hair, a thumb caressing her cheek. _So soft._

“Kiss me, Severus.” 

She offered her mouth with parted lips, and he could only accept, bringing his down for a light brush. She sighed, and he welcomed her warmth, pressing his thin lips on the softness of hers for a real kiss. She clung to him, bringing him even closer by the nape. He pulled her to him, keeping their mouths moving leisurely, enjoying every inch of contact until pulling back, breathing into her mouth.

Their eyes opened and met—hers half-lidded. He felt alien in his own body. It was like his dreams were mixed in a reality he didn’t know of. He had never kissed like that, with such intensity. He had never been kissed like that. _She has no idea what she’s doing to me._

When he felt her teeth on his chin, he almost lost the strength on his knees. “You’re insane.” She was smiling and sliding her hand down his neck. Her lips closed on his chin, soothing the skin she’d just attacked with her teeth. She trailed chaste kisses on what was bare of his neck.

“Hermione.”

She withdrew, and Severus looked down at her. _So dangerous, so beautiful._ He kissed her again, soundly, passionately, holding nothing back. Their tongues met, and he was lost in her for life.

She broke the kiss. 

Dazedly confused, he looked down at her and found her reluctance. 

“This is going too fast,” she panted. “Maybe I should go, now.” She didn’t make a move to do as she’d said, held there by the connection their eyes made between their souls. 

An eternity seemed to have passed when she took a tentative step away from his arms. He let her, even though he didn’t want her gone. She kept looking at him, never turning away as she walked to the door; her smile was the only thing he could see.

“Promise you’ll be here when I come back,” she asked from the door.

He would, he knew, but he never said that aloud, and his lack of answer didn’t make her smile yield. He couldn’t keep his eyes from her until the door closed and she was gone, clicking him back from the trance. 

“Damn.” It wasn’t higher than a mutter. It wasn’t a curse, either.

~o0oOo0o~

Dusty, old books. They seemed endless in this part of the library where few students ventured. Nathan was the only one who could be seen in there with some regularity at this time of the year. He was looking for references to his past. It was May, but he felt like he was back in September, when he’d also been to this part of the library in search of his past. Back then, he searched for a father, and now, he knew his father was Severus Snape. But what did that mean, exactly? After Malfoy’s party, Nathan had discovered that his father had a whole life outside the castle of which he didn’t know much. Being a Snape involved much more than simply being the son of Hogwarts’ Potions master. His father was much respected in wizarding high society, probably a member of it himself as part of being a Prince.

That was what Nathan had found out researching the pin he’d seen on his father’s robes that afternoon—a similar pin now used by Malfoy, too. 

The family insignia.

“Is History of Magic giving you trouble?”

The voice of another person nearby surprised Nathan. Professor Lupin stood by the table, sporting a smile on his face.

“Well, sort of.”

“Goblins?”

“No, sir.”

The professor took one of the books from the desk and frowned. “Wizarding genealogy?” He took another. “Pureblood traditions? Since when did Binns change his syllabus?”

“It’s not for Professor Binns’ class, sir.” 

Frowning, his Head of House took the chair opposite to his. “This isn’t homework, is it?”

“No, it’s something else,” Nathan confirmed.

“Would you want to tell me what is it, then?”

Nathan looked at his professor with confusion. “What do you mean, sir?”

“I want to know why you’re alone in the gloomy library researching pureblood traditions while your friends are all enjoying the unexpected nice weather outside.”

Nathan looked at his notes and the books sprawled around them. It occurred to him that he hadn’t read anything about the Lupin family so far. “Sir, are you a pureblood?”

The question seemed to offend the professor. “I’m a wizard, and that’s what matters. Blood status hasn’t meant anything since the fall of Voldemort.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

“You didn’t offend me, Nathan.” Professor Lupin’s voice was calmer. “Those who fought in the war are always cautious when questions like that are raised. What are you looking for in these books?”

“I just want to know more about the wizarding side of my family. Did you know that my dad is half Prince?” Nathan smiled, and then remembered his place. “By dad I mean Professor Snape, of course.”

“I know who your _dad_ is.” Professor Lupin smiled, seeming somehow more comfortable with the conversation after that. “Does he know about this research?”

“No.” Nathan frowned. It hadn’t even occurred to him that his dad might have a problem with it. “I’m not doing anything wrong…” Nathan was _almost_ sure of that. “Or am I?”

“That was not what I meant. Has it occurred to you that he might have information that is not on the books? He might want to help you.”

To be honest, it hadn’t crossed Nathan’s mind to outright go and ask his father about the insignia. “I thought I’d start with the books. That way I’ll have some information before I ask him.”

Professor Lupin rested his back on the chair, placing his intertwined hands on the desktop and looking suspiciously at Nathan. “I’m not going to have to call your mother here to visit you in the Hospital Wing over this, am I?”

“What? How could researching get me there?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s something I learned when I taught your mother. Every time I found her in the library, it didn’t take long for her or one of her friends to get into trouble and end up in the Hospital Wing. You seem to have the same talent.” Professor Lupin sent him a pointed look.

“I cannot imagine how this could get me into any trouble, sir.”

“Very well.” Professor Lupin stood up, hopefully to leave Nathan to his research. “Try to remember to eat and go to classes between books.”

“I will.” 

Nathan smiled and the professor finally left. He was free to go back to other references about the family insignias. He’d discovered that they’d been created as a means for wizards to be readily identifiable, back when practicing witchcraft and wizardry in front of Muggles wasn’t forbidden and famous wizards like Merlin were highly respected for their skills. It was kind of like his grandparents wearing white to work as dentists. Of course, things had changed drastically when witches and wizards had been hunted and burned alive for their gifts. They had to hide for safety, and wearing the family insignia became a way for wizards to recognize each other and unite forces for protection. The tradition remained throughout the centuries, continuing nowadays amongst purebloods. 

Nathan had found books with detailed descriptions of what each major wizarding family insignia bore and their meaning. He’d found Malfoy’s, he’d found Potter’s, and most importantly, he’d found Prince’s—the one his father had rightfully been wearing at Malfoy’s party. Reading further, he’d also discovered that the insignias didn’t always come as pins, but could also be displayed in the form of rings, preferred by clan chiefs, and of pendants, usually worn by women. 

Well, if Nathan decided to make one for himself, it should definitely be a pin, like his father’s. Magical children were allowed to wear the family insignia after they’d turned twelve—an age when they had a wand of their own and had already proven to be able to channel their magic through it, therefore, proving themselves to be true wizards and witches. 

Nathan definitely fulfilled the requirements. He should be wearing his family insignia by now, and the only reason he could think of for not having his own yet was the fact that he’d turned twelve right when his soul had been locked outside his body because of that stupid spell. Or maybe the Princes had to recognize him as part of the family. Would they? 

The Prince clan was a much respected wizarding family, if what he’d read was true. Everything Nathan had found out about his Prince side of the family was exciting and scary in equal parts. Exciting because he’d discovered that the history of chocolate in the wizarding world was intimately connected to the Princes’ own history, and scary because every discovery added to his private thought that his father hadn’t introduced him to his family because he didn’t think Nathan was up to the name. 

Isidorus Prince had been a very famous wizard. Nathan had read that he’d been the first wizard to mix magic with chocolate in the 1840’s, and not ten years later, he’d invented the chocolate frog. His apothecary, where chocolate used to be sold back then, became the most famous in wizarding Britain. 

Isidorus had been only the first in a line of Princes to find in the secrets of chocolate the means for recognition, success and fortune. Nathan had wondered about said fortune being now in his father’s hands, but he was quickly dissuaded of this notion by clippings reporting how his grand-grandfather had sold the rights of the family’s chocolate secrets to Honeyduke’s. News of any member of the Prince family after that had been few and far between. 

Besides the information he’d found on the late Princes, Nathan had also found a picture of his grandmother, Eileen, when she’d still been a student at Hogwarts. She’d been a Slytherin prefect and captain of the Hogwarts’ Gobstone team. She’d looked very much like his father did, nose and all, and Nathan was suddenly aware of how lucky he was to have inherited the Grangers’ nose. When Eileen had married Tobias, she’d become a Snape, thus ending the Prince line. The last reference to the name Prince Nathan could find was in a footnote about the birth of Lisaneas Prince’s grandson, Eileen Snape’s son, Severus. 

Seeing the news of his father’s birth on the newspaper made Nathan wonder if his own birth had made the news. Advancing to less yellowed issues of the Daily Prophet, Nathan found many references to his mother and her two friends, Harry and Ron, but only in mentions of her mysterious disappearance. Nathan sighed, letting the papers be.

Now that he knew that his dad wouldn’t be leaving his life at the next blink of an eye, Nathan had caught himself in questions that hadn’t worried him before. Why had his mother taken so long to tell him that Professor Snape was his father? Why hadn’t they been together when he’d been born? Why the secret? Why wasn’t his birth in the news? Why had his mother left the wizarding world? Hadn’t they dated? Had they ever thought about getting married? If not, why not? 

And did any of those answers explain why he didn’t have his own Prince family insignia, yet?

Although he didn’t have answers to those questions, Nathan could easily remedy the last one by making his own Prince family insignia. He’d found the Prince crest on a book, so all he needed was to transfigure it into a pin. If he worked hard enough, he could surprise his dad by wearing it to tea next week.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus couldn’t sleep. Since he’d admitted his dreams into his waking life, Severus had been unable to let his conscience rest, constantly haunted by thoughts of what would be Hermione’s and Nathan’s future with his interference in their lives.

Every time he tried to think about it optimistically, Hermione ended up bound to him and miserable. Every time he tried to think of the worst case scenario, Hermione was bruised and quenched, yelling at him to leave and never return. Each time he stopped to think about their future, the worst case scenario found new ways of getting worse.

Like now. 

He’d just spent the first part of his afternoon with Nathan—his innocent boy. It was amazing how pure he was, how carefree the child could be, but now that Nathan was gone, all Severus could think about was another boy, the Boy Who Lived. An orphan, growing up as a misshapen Muggle, hidden from his real life for protection, always misguided, always... miserable.

There, surrounded by the books covering the walls of his shabby house in Spinner’s End, the man hid his face in his hands, closing his eyes tightly, trying to make the images of eleven-year-old Harry Potter go away, but they never went. Running away from Hogwarts wasn’t helping him this time, either. The images were still there, always there, imprinted on his mind’s eyes. Except, now, the boy looking hatefully at him wasn’t always Potter anymore, but sometimes Nathan, his innocence completely gone, eyes cold as stones, with only hatred left. Severus knew he was responsible for all that.

He pulled at his hair, wanting his mind to stop torturing him. He had to make it stop!

Severus didn’t even realize what he was doing until he’d opened his eyes to the sight of a wall of bricks. He’d Apparated into a dead-end between two buildings, one he’d used once before, months ago. On that occasion, he hadn’t hesitated, leaving the obscured place as soon as he’d felt he’d been entirely there. On this occasion, though, he didn’t move to leave, trying first to understand what his subconscious was asking of him. 

A group of loud people passed by, not noticing him. 

_It’s for the best,_ his mind supplied, and Severus muttered, “This is ridiculous.” 

To what he was referring, it was hard to tell. It could be to his inability to take action and finally leave the dead-end, which was indeed ridiculous. It could also be a reference to the absurdity of the idea that he was coming after Hermione in the middle of the afternoon to convince her that he didn’t have feelings for her after what had happened during the weekend, which was extremely ridiculous. 

A group of young women passed by laughing scandalously.

Severus growled at them, at himself, and finally took off, following the paved walkway towards the Chemistry Department building of the Muggle University. Picturing the stony eyes of a destroyed Nathan, he quickly left the giggling women behind, gaining speed and determination with each step. Severus would enter Hermione’s office and tell her that this was a mistake, that she didn’t need him, that it was best if she left him to live his miserable life away from her. He would not stay to listen to a word she said; he wouldn’t give her any opportunity to open her soft lips to argue. He would find her, tell her everything she had to hear, and then run as fast as he could. 

He shook his head to clear his mind.

He would find her, tell her everything she had to hear, and then leave quickly before she could get to him.

He frowned, slowing down minutely, worrying that maybe he wouldn’t have a chance to escape before she put her delicate hands on him, knowing quite well that he wouldn’t be strong-willed enough to leave if she touched him—he would succumb.

Then he almost physically did, took away from his worries by stumbling into someone.

“Excuse me,” the man who’d gotten in his way said. 

“It was nothing.”

They looked at each other, and the Muggle instantly showed signs of recognition. It wasn’t just any Muggle, but Hermione’s Muggle. Severus schooled his surprise into a blank expression.

“Are you looking for Hermione?” Suspicion was written on the man’s face. “Do you bring news of her son?” 

Her son… His primarily purpose put aside by more urgent instincts, a red rage took charge inside Severus’ unexpressive body. Nathan was _their_ son, not only _hers_ , and this Muggle had no business asking about Severus’ boy.

“ _My_ son is fine,” Severus spat. “Not that it’s any of your concern.”

“As Hermione’s boyfriend, I have to disagree.”

Severus didn’t have time to acknowledge the petulance of his tone, taken aback by the words, instead. _Boyfriend._ All anger drained from his body, replaced only by a cold numbness. He’d thought she would dispense of the Muggle after what had passed between them over the weekend. Severus had thought she’d meant to be his from then on.

Severus left the Muggle talking to himself, hearing his calls but pointedly ignoring them. 

_She’s not mine. She was never mine. She won’t ever be mine._

His agile legs guided him quickly back into the dead-end, where he Disaparated back to Hogwarts and his old, futureless misery.

~o0oOo0o~

“Hermione?”

She looked up and found William in the doorway to her office. She hadn’t known that he’d been back from his trip to America already. Hermione wasn’t looking forward to the conversation they would have, but there was nothing to be gained by postponing it. She built a smile, nonetheless. “You’re back.”

He answered her smile easily. “Did you miss me?” Approaching, he bent over the desk and kissed her.

Her smile saddened. She had brought him into this, and now he would be hurt.

He took a seat on a chair across from her. “How’s Nathan?”

She found the question unexpected. “He’s wonderful, thank you for asking.”

“What did his father want, then?”

“Nathan’s father?” She frowned.

“Yes, I bumped into him coming into the building.”

“Severus? Here?”

“No, he left.” It was William frowning, now. “Hasn’t he been to see you?”

“No.” A sense of dread started to take Hermione’s chest. “Did you talk to him?”

“Briefly.” Hermione’s dread got to her throat, drying her mouth. “I asked after your son, but he was rude, saying it wasn’t my business. Is he always like that?” 

“Yes, he’s like that. What did you say?” Hermione felt her life was hanging on that answer.

“Well, that I was your boyfriend! That Nathan is now my business, too!” he said vehemently.

“Dear God,” she whispered, holding her head in her hands. 

“Hermione, are you all right? I didn’t mean to scare you. He assured me that Nathan was fine.” He was by her side in no time.

“I’m fine. I should probably go after him. It might be important.” She needed to find Severus as soon as possible, but the kind hands on her shoulders, caressing, told her that she needed to put things to right here before going after Severus.

“Will, we need to talk.” 

Hermione sadly proceeded to break his heart.

~o0oOo0o~

“Severus?”

He heard her voice and started.

“Severus, are you there?”

He looked at the hearth and found the source of her voice. He hesitated only a second, schooling his features before showing up in front of the hearth.

“What is it?”

She was silent, as if she’d lost what she was going to say the moment he’d answered her call. 

“I… May I come through?”

“You may not,” he answered tersely.

“Severus, we need to talk, and I’d prefer if I didn’t have to do it on my knees on the hard floor.” 

He made a point of ignoring her request.

“You could come over, if you prefer. Have you eaten dinner?”

“Why? Shouldn’t you be inquiring about your boyfriend’s meals?”

“Please, Severus. We need to talk. I’ll do it from here, if needed.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and hoped he had a bored expression to show her. What he felt underneath was anger at her dissimulation.

“All right, then, have it your way,” she said. “I know that you met with William this afternoon, and I’m assuming that you didn’t like what you heard from him. I was dating him, but as of this afternoon, I’m not anymore. If you’re wondering why I hadn’t talked to him before, it was because he’d only just arrived from a trip this morning. You met with him before I had any chance of breaking up with him, which I did the moment we met.”

As if he would believe her. What a ludicrous excuse she was making up! Second-years could do better than that. 

“Severus…” Her voice was quieter. “Say something.”

He kept his silence.

“You came looking for me… Didn’t you want to talk to me?”

“I was looking for you to end whatever I thought was going on between us. I don’t see the point now, do you?” Anger had finally found an escape.

“No, I see no point whatsoever to ending things between us,” she answered. “That’s not what I want.”

He snorted. “What you want! What is it, anyway? A lover for your lonely weekends?”

“Oh, for God’s sake! Of course not!” she retorted and then sighed heavily. “This conversation will take forever. Please, come over.”

Her vehemence was still traitorously ringing resonant in his hopeful heart, even more so after her renewed invitation for him to go to her. 

“If you don’t want to come to my place, then at least lift the wards so I can come through,” she insisted with admirable calm.

He couldn’t let her come closer to him. She had always a way of making him go back in time and become a schoolboy, full of hopes and insecurities. No, he was done with being vulnerable around her.

“Fine.” She interrupted his thoughts. “I get it. We’ll have this conversation on Friday, then. Have a good night, Severus.”

Severus stared at the empty hearth, now bright in yellows and reds as a natural fire burned in it. She was blissfully gone. 

Why didn’t he feel good about it, then? 

Severus started pacing in front of the hearth, holding his chest and wondering what was making it ache so much. She’d said she’d ended her fling with the Muggle. Could he believe her? Would she be his, then? 

_She’s not mine. She won’t ever be mine._

It didn’t matter; Severus’ heart ached even more.

She had to know that no Muggle was to get into Nathan’s life. No man was to call himself her boyfriend. No man was to touch and kiss her the way he, Severus Snape, did.

He growled, chest sore, unable to stop pacing. He took a long stride and threw a handful of Floo powder on the fire. 

“Hermione Granger’s apartment,” he snarled, stepping through and almost losing his balance when he was ejected directly into her living room without any barriers to hold him back. He looked around and found her on the couch, looking intently at him.

“Don’t you protect your hearth against intruders?” Now, less disoriented and more focused, he narrowed his eyes at her. “Or are you expecting someone?”

“You,” she confessed. “I knew you’d come,” she added, visibly holding back a smile. “I thought it would take you longer to stop being so stubborn, though.”

“What kind of game is this?” 

She sobered. “This is no game, and I thought you knew that. Why were you at the University earlier, anyway? I’m assuming Nathan is fine.” Her tone was questioning and slightly worried despite the affirmative of the phrasing.

“Yes, he’s fine,” he assured, losing some of the anger with the mention of their son. 

Now, thinking of it, going after her at her workplace had been bound to worry her, a terrible idea even for a selfish man like him. In his desperation to vanish the horrible scenes his mind was creating, he’d let his will take hold of his actions, making him believe that pushing her from him would help him retake the control over a situation he hadn’t any control from the moment he’d met with her soul. Severus had taken off with the firm purpose of reminding her of all the fine points that made their relationship corrosive and wrong, but he’d returned to his quarters consumed by jealousy, blind to everything else.

He looked at her expectant eyes and had to hide behind his hair and turn his back to her, facing the bookshelves instead, because he knew she’d seen the thoughts playing on his face; she was still waiting for him to say something. 

“I was there to talk about…” He sighed.

“Us?” she completed for him.

“I can’t do this, Hermione,” he told the blue, leather-bound tome in front of him. “This had better end here.”

Her continued silence weighed uncomfortably on the back of his head. He shoved his hands into his pockets, not knowing what else to do with himself.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” he answered quickly, clinging desperately to this opportunity of a way out. 

“You don’t seem very convinced of that,” she told him. “If you were really interested in ending things between us, you’d be spitting hurtful words at my face and not contemplating my books as if they were part of a rare collection.”

He quickly turned to face her at that.

“Nathan does exactly the same,” she offered in a way of justifying herself, placating him with a sad smile.

“When I say something, I mean it,” he admonished.

“You don’t mean it.”

“Do you take me for a liar? You?” 

Her attitude irritated him. The fact that she was doubting what he doubted himself was beside the point. He hated her at this moment for having the upper hand in a conversation meant to be _her_ downfall and not _his_. 

“I’m just making a point,” she had the audacity to say. “You don’t want me out of your life; you’re just saying that.”

“You have no means of knowing what I want,” he growled. “Don’t assume you know me.”

She agreed, nodding once. “I’m only getting to know you. Why don’t you tell me what you want, then?”

He chuckled sarcastically. Then, all of a sudden, the hurtful words he’d been so ready to throw at her escaped his mind, and all that was left were the questions he’d been dying to ask since her return into his life. He tried to hold his tongue, he truly did, but… 

“I want to understand you, but you’re impossible to understand!” he accused. “First you go to hell and back to prove that I’m not a traitor for killing Albus. Then you work with me, help me deceive the Dark Lord, are even friendly to me… Then I rape you.”

“Severus.”

“No, I’ll finish,” he growled, glaring at her. “I rape you, and you thank me, as if I’ve done you an enormous favor. Then you give birth to my child for no reason I can possibly comprehend, and then you protect him from me—wisely, I may add. You obviously know I’m not good for him, and then you expect me to believe otherwise. I can’t—” His voice faltered. “How can you actually believe I won’t destroy your lives? Because I will! Not because I want to, but because it’s what I do! I destroy lives.” He stopped pacing to look at her, just to find her eyes calm, expression kind, as if he’d been lecturing her on the brewing of a boring potion instead of pouring his mind and heart to her. “You’re not listening to me!” he yelled accusingly.

“Yes, I am,” she calmly said. “I’m listening to your every word, your every worry. I want you to know that I was never unaware of your worries... your fears. I just don’t see why they need to keep us apart. It’s not as if it’d all been a sea of roses for any of us up to now. Of course I have fears and worries, too—especially because this involves Nathan. I could never forgive myself if something happened to Nathan, so I gave this a lot of thought. I’ve never expected our relationship to be easy, or smooth, or happily ever after… I just can’t see myself happy without you in our lives. Not a fairy-tale kind of happy life, because you’re not Prince Charming, and I’m not any helpless princess, either, but a possible and ordinary happy life of real people, Severus. I’m just an ordinary woman in love with an impossibly stubborn man, who thinks he should be always ready to rescue her in order to be worthy of her love. The problem is: I’m not locked defenseless in a tower. I don’t need to be rescued by any prince.” A smirk grew slowly on her lovely lips. “Although you are one.”

He snorted despite of himself. 

She left the couch and stood in front of him. “I honestly believe we can make this work.”

“And you’d risk everything on your faith in me alone. You’re a fool, Hermione.”

“Maybe I am, but I’m not the only one, am I?” 

She ran a hand up his chest and behind his neck, pulling his face down to meet hers. He bent to her desire and kissed her tenderly. He was a far greater fool than she could possibly imagine, but at least the ache that had compressed his chest all afternoon was gone.

“We’ll find the right pace,” she assuaged him. “We’ll start slowly and see where it takes us.”

“What about the Muggle?” He raised an eyebrow pointedly at her.

“He was never a threat to you.” Before he could argue, she added, “I ended things with him earlier today, as I told you.”

“What about Nathan?” There was a pause where they both thought about the meaning of their relationship to their son. “I don’t want him involved,” he demanded.

Hesitantly, she agreed. “For now.”

She kissed him this time, a kiss too short for Severus’ needs. “Should I prepare us dinner, now? I’m starving.”

So was Severus, so he kissed her again, deeply, until he was startled from his abandon by her satisfied moan and broke the kiss. He felt heat rising from his chest and neck, telling him that he was blushing.

She cleared her throat. “Do you like pasta?”

He nodded, still embarrassed by his display of complete lack of control.

“Good,” she said—more to herself, it seemed—and left him alone in the living room. “There’s brandy and whisky in the cabinet next to the bookshelf, if you don’t mind serving yourself,” she called from the kitchen. 

He made little of her offer and followed her. From the doorway, he asked, “Do you have wine?”

She jumped in surprise, betraying her nerves. It calmed him somewhat; it meant he wasn’t alone in unknown waters.

“I…” she stuttered. “There’s a bottle in there.” She pointed to a high cabinet behind her.

He fetched the wine and two goblets. She was dicing mushrooms, and he leant on the doorjamb to watch, slowly opening the bottle. 

“Is the dicing to your standards, professor?”

“I thought you were cooking, not brewing.” 

The comment made her smile, and it illuminated the room. It was like the many times he’d visited her in soul only, as if he’d left his old life behind to start anew. Severus longed to encircle her from behind and burrow his nose in her soft hair while she cooked. He finished opening the wine instead, resting a goblet for her next to the cutting board and leaning back on the doorjamb with one for himself.

The only sounds were that of knife hitting wooden board and his heart beating loudly in his ears. He wished there would be music playing, like it usually did when she was alone in the kitchen. She could be humming and swinging her curvy body to the rhythm. Severus took a long sip from his wine and tried to keep himself from acting on the memory or having an anxiety attack. 

“Do you like it hot?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you like chili in the sauce?” she rephrased the question, showing him a red chili pepper. 

“Yes.” He would need a cold shower after this evening, anyway.

She worked with the pans while he watched. What she was offering him… a new life, a chance to be himself after the many years he’d lost… It had no precedents. He took another long sip of wine and thought of what was to come, of them having dinner like he’d seen her doing with her Muggle boyfriend. More wine…

“I should go back to Hogwarts.” He put his goblet on the counter. 

She stopped what she’d been doing to look carefully at him, her eyes impossible to decipher. He was paralyzed by them, until she looked back down at the pan.

“What is still bothering you?”

“Hermione…” He watched her stir furiously. It was hypnotic. She stopped. He looked up from her hands to her face. “I…”

“Stay for dinner.” She went back to work, and he stayed, silently watching her. He only moved to follow her to the table, joining her for the meal.

“It’s not as if we didn’t do this every Saturday,” she commented, risking a smile his way.

“Where’s Nathan, then?” he asked. This was completely different, and she knew it. 

She sighed. “Severus—”

“I know what you’re trying to do.”

“I’m trying to have dinner with you. It’s as simple as that. You’re obviously thinking I have some mysterious plot going on behind your back, though.” She looked straight into his eyes. “I don’t.” She started serving him, and then herself. When she took the first bite, he followed suit.

It seemed that the meal was going to pass by in absolute silence, but when he was almost finished, Hermione put the silverware down and sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I thought we’d have come to an understanding. I didn’t mean to push you.” She closed her eyes after a moment. “Your silence is killing me.”

His tongue was tied. Severus was hurting her already with his inability to act like a normal man would. He did the first thing his mind provided when it came to comfort: he covered her hand with his. Her tension melted from her shoulders, and it was like a Calming Draught to him.

“Thank you for inviting me for dinner. The pasta was tasty.”

She laughed, turning her hand palm up into his.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for staying.”

He asked her about living in a Muggle neighborhood. She told him about her neighbors and Muggle friends. He asked about Nathan’s Muggle friends. She told him how Nathan had enjoyed going to school with the boy next door, his best friend for years. He asked her how she’d become a Chemistry professor. She told him about her days in the university as an undergraduate, about choosing to become a researcher and later a professor.

All the while playing with his hand and fingers.

He could have stayed there forever, learning about her life and every move her hand could make. 

The conversation went on. He focused on her, keeping the questions going. Whatever piqued his interest, he held to, hoping she would never tire of answering with her enthusiasm and the caress of her fingers. 

“What happened when they found out she’d stolen your ideas?” 

“They cut her from the program.” After a pause, she added, “I feel I’m boring you to death with all these grand facts of my life.” Before he could say otherwise, she let his hand go. “And look at the time!”

He did. It was almost midnight. She’d let his hand go, and now she was leaving the table. He stood as well. She took their dishes to the kitchen. He stepped out of the way.

What was he supposed to do now? Leave? Wait? Help? 

She came back and stopped in front of him. “I had a great time.” She took both of his hands in hers. “Thank you for giving us a chance.”

He kissed her soft lips, and then kissed them again, and again, until those lovely lips held his just as her hands were doing. 

Heaven. 

It’d been the longest he’d kissed a woman, and he could have continued all night long if she hadn’t stepped back and pulled him to the hearth. 

“You’d better go. It’s late.” She called for his quarters at Hogwarts, and the green illuminated her face. He kissed her again. She pushed him away, smiling. “Go. I’ll see you on Friday.”

He managed to steal one last kiss before the Floo network took him away from her and the soft sound of her laugher.

~o0oOo0o~

**_Dear Aunt Ginny,_ **

Thank you for the Toffees you sent me last week. I’m almost sure they came from your brother’s shop, right? Send me more anytime you want to! Andy loved them, too. 

I was wondering if you could help me with some History of Magic homework. I need a pin-like piece with the symbol I’m sending with the letter engraved on it. It’s just like a family insignia, if you’ve heard of them. I’d make one myself, but I haven’t learned the spells yet. I tried, but there’s always something missing on the symbol, or it fades within a few minutes… I hope you can help me.

Tell Lily that I’m preparing a reply for her last letter. It should be ready by tomorrow.

Love,   
Nathan Granger

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione’s eagerness abated when she entered the Great Hall and saw that both seats next to Severus were already taken. The closest she could get to him for dinner was three seats away, on Remus’ left.

“Good evening, Hermione,” he greeted her. “How was your week?”

“It was great, thank you. How are classes and Gryffindor House?”

She fell into mundane conversation with her long-time friend while she tried to have at least a glimpse of Severus from time to time, trying to catch his eye and somehow communicate.

“…the students are…” Remus was saying, but stopped mid-sentence to look over his shoulders. “How are things between you?”

“What? I’m sorry, you were saying…?”

“Severus. I’ve noticed how better behaved he seems around Nathan as of late, and likewise, but how is he treating you?”

“He’s been polite,” Hermione said, managing to keep the feel of Severus’ lips and hands on her skin to herself. “We still argue, but I suppose there’s no way of getting anything from him without arguing first, right?”

Remus hummed and looked at her with eyes that she found a little too inquisitive for her liking. “And how’s Harry these days?”

The abrupt change in subject caught her by surprise and made her even more uncomfortable. “I haven’t seen him in a while.” 

“Maybe you’ll have the opportunity to catch up. He’ll be my substitute for the coming full moon.”

Hermione tried to keep her attention on Remus from then on, looking past him to Severus only when they were between topics. Their eyes met a few times, but Severus was much more discreet than Hermione, and it was hard to tell if he’d noticed her attention or not. 

She went straight to the dungeons after dinner. There was no light coming from under his office door, and there wasn’t any light showing on his quarters, either. Frowning, she made the way back to the Entrance Hall, noticing, then, the light illuminating the stone floor in front of the Potions classroom.

She knocked.

“Enter,” he invited, making Hermione smile. 

She pushed the door open and found him inside, but he wasn’t alone. Three boys and a girl, probably third-years, were engaged in different tasks while he sat by his desk; all eyes were now on her.

“Back to work,” he growled low, and the students obeyed with commiseration. He left the desk to meet her by the door.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she apologized.

“Was there something you needed?” he asked politely.

“Nothing that can’t wait,” she lied. On the inside, her need for his touch and company was ever more urgent, enhanced by the sound of his voice and the sight of him an arm’s length from her.

“My evening is lost on these dunderheads,” he told her loudly, clearly to be heard by the students. “If it can wait until tomorrow…” he added, his face conveying an apology. 

“Tomorrow. Of course. Have a good night, Severus.”

He nodded and snapped at one of the boys on his way back to his desk. Hermione left before she could make things even worse for the poor students in detention. 

She waited up in her quarters until she realized he wouldn’t be coming as she’d hoped. She slept and dreamed of him, unaware of what that meant. 

She was again unable to sit beside him on breakfast, and before she could head for the dungeons to meet him properly, Nathan came to her.

“Hi, Mom. Are you going to Dad’s lab?”

“Yes, are you coming along?”

His smile answered her, and she resigned herself to another morning without Severus’ touch. It helped that the brewing process held her mind away from thoughts of him. Unable to reach the Great Hall for lunch, she sent Nathan off. When he came back, telling her that he’d asked the house-elves to bring them sandwiches, she insisted that he should head to the Great Hall for a proper lunch.

“But I want to be here to add the Alihotsy leaves,” he argued.

“You want to be here to see me handle the Devil’s Snare roots. I’ve already told you that it’s too dangerous.”

“But, Mom, I’m not asking to cut them, just to see you cutting them,” he whined again.

Hermione only held a hand up, asking for silence with the gesture. She counted the last twenty clockwise turns of the stirring rod, watching the potion reach the perfect color.

“Is it milky white?” Nathan asked, approaching the cauldron to look inside.

Hermione was going to continue where she’d left on her argumentation when her eyes caught sight of the man by the door.

“Who ordered this?” Severus asked, a tray of sandwiches in his hands. 

“I did.” Nathan went to him and tried to take the tray.

“Where do you think you’re taking this?” Severus asked, raising an eyebrow and not letting go of the tray. “Sandwiches are not ingredients for this potion, or are they?”

“No, they’re not,” Nathan answered, chagrined. 

“Take them outside,” Severus ordered, but he held the tray again when Nathan tried to take it. “Why aren’t you eating in the Great Hall to begin with?”

“We were discussing exactly that,” Hermione pointed out.

“Mom…” Nathan tried to argue.

“It’s probably too late for that, now,” Severus said. “Take the tray to the office and, next time, do as your mother says.” 

“Yes, sir.” Nathan left the lab.

“Thank you.” Hermione was finally alone with Severus.

He inclined his head to acknowledge her thanks and kept his eyes on hers. The way he was looking at her, the possibilities implied by that look, was giving her a trill. She struggled to look away, back to the cauldron. She couldn’t afford to be distracted at this moment in the brewing—the potion needed stirring… now. She put her hands to the task.

“Stir every five minutes, alternate, start clockwise, seven times, twenty stirs.” He seemed to be reading from her notes. She made the last turn anti-clockwise and took the stirring rod carefully out of the potion. “I’ll take over from here. You go eat with Nathan. How many cycles to go?”

“Five, but lunch can wait. I thank you, anyway.”

He invaded her personal space, pinning her in place with his powerful eyes. He slid the rod from her hand as if it were a caress. 

“I believe the sandwiches are in the office,” he muttered close to her ear. He stepped back, making her sway a little at his departure. 

She opened the eyes, closed by the power of his voice washing over her. The smirk on his face told her he knew exactly what he’d just done. It scared her.

“I believe I’ll wait until the potion is past this stage.” She extended her hand, asking for the stirring rod back. 

He lost the smirk, as intended. “Go eat something and let me attend to the cauldron.”

She didn’t have time to argue, so, reluctantly, she gave him access to the potion. In a few seconds, he started the third cycle of stirs. She only just noticed she’d been counting them when he said, “I know how to stir a potion. I also know how to count to twenty.” He stopped precisely on twenty and carefully lifted the utensil from the potion. “I assure you that I also know how to wait for exactly five minutes before resuming the task.” 

“The color is—”

“I know. Go have lunch, Hermione. I won’t ruin your potion.”

Of course he wouldn’t. Hermione left the lab, discomfited, and met Nathan eating quietly in the office. 

“Is Dad taking care of the potion?”

“Yes.” She took a seat, reaching for a sandwich and thinking about what had just transpired between Severus and her. He’d manipulated her, played with her senses, and she’d responded. He’d been… 

Hermione sighed. 

He’d been just trying to be helpful, and she’d offended him with her overzealous nature of tending to her work. No one would know how to take better care of a potion than Severus, and she’d unconsciously offended him by doubting that.

“Do you think he would mind me getting back in the lab?”

“Of course not, honey. Have you eaten already?”

“Yes. Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, go ahead. Don’t interrupt him if he’s counting stirs,” she advised him.

Minutes later, when she entered the lab again, she found Severus in the middle of the last cycle of stirs and Nathan watching with attention. She approached them when he lifted the stirring rod. Before she could say anything, he offered the utensil and said, “It’s all yours.” 

He left the room in quick strides and left her thinking on how she could compensate for her lack of tact.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus was distant during dinner, responding little even to Nathan’s chattering. By the end of it, Hermione felt so bad about what had happened earlier that she made Nathan wait outside when they were saying their good nights.

“I’m sorry for what I did in the lab.”

“It’s getting late,” he reminded her.

“I don’t want to leave without making sure you understand I was taken by surprise. The way you distracted me with your presence is terrifying. I’m sorry I reacted badly. I don’t know what got into me. I…”

“Nathan is waiting.”

“I don’t want to go,” she confessed, not wanting to leave before she was sure he’d accepted her apology.

His indefinable expression held Hermione’s nerves like strings on a puppet.

“I’ll walk with you,” he said and held the door open for her to precede him into the dungeon corridor. 

“Dad?”

“I’m walking you tonight,” Severus simply said. 

They saw Nathan past the Fat Lady’s portrait, and Hermione immediately took his hand. “Severus?”

“Not here,” he mumbled, looking around. 

“My quarters, then,” she offered. 

He started walking, taking Hermione by the hand, making her relax minutely. By her door, he waited for her to provide them entrance, and once inside, Hermione couldn’t hold her anxiety anymore.

“I didn’t have the opportunity to thank you for helping me in the lab.”

His hand warmed one side of her face. “Enough of that.” His lips met hers, and Hermione almost fell from relief. She held onto his neck, pressing her body to his. 

“Thank you.” She combed his hair away from his face, caressing him with hands and eyes. “Do what you did to me in the lab,” she requested. “Make me senseless.” Her hands came down to his neck and chest, rounding his arms from under his outer robes and reaching his back. 

“You give me too much credit,” he mumbled in her ear, his voice entering her brain and melting it.

She gave him a silly smile before kissing him again. 

“You almost made me send the potion to hell so I could stay just like this, holding and kissing you all day long.”

“Less talking.” He covered her mouth with his to demonstrate how. She lost herself in him, feeling hands and using them to touch unexplored places, until the busy silence was becoming gasping delight. 

Maybe it was time to restart the talking.

“Severus,” she tried, touching her nose to his neck, keeping her mouth out of reach. He pulled her hair from her face, leaving a shivery path where his thumb stroked. “I’m thirsty.” Stepping out of his embrace, she offered, “Would you like a glass of water?”

“Maybe I should go.”

“No!” Hermione reacted. “I mean, stay.” She went for his hand and pulled him to the couch. “Stay and tell me about your week. What have you done since I last saw you on Wednesday?”

He looked at her while she filled two glasses with water. “You want to chit-chat? We can’t pretend we’ve only just met.”

“Why can’t we?”

“Because my memories of you won’t spontaneously disappear from my mind. Well, technically, I could erase them, but you understood what I mean. We’ve known each other for longer than a couple of days.”

“The circumstances are different. We’re different.”

He raised an eyebrow to disagree. She offered him a glass of water, which he accepted. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you haven’t changed at all in the last ten years?” She took a seat next to him to wait for his answer.

“Do you sincerely believe I’m not the man you met when you arrived at Hogwarts?” From the look on his face, Hermione could tell that he was deadly serious about the question. 

“I’m not the girl you met twenty years ago as much as I’m sure you’re no longer the man I met when I was that girl.”

“Boys and girls often change. Men and women, though… There’s a certain point in life where the deeds can’t be undone, and life will follow as a series of consequences. Mine was always an out-of-control train, killing and harming everything that ever tried to change its course.”

She thought his words over. “You might be right, but—”

“There are no buts.” 

“But,” she went on, “we’re always offered new paths to choose from, and even if they don’t seem all that different from one another, we still have the choice to change. You did that. I did that. We’ve changed.”

“Even if I agree that we’re different people, our past will always be the base for who we are now. If you hadn’t been Potter’s minion, you wouldn’t have become the woman you are today.”

“And who would that be?”

“Completely insane, entirely too trusting, overzealous on behalf of others but not yourself, an overachiever.”

She was smiling at him. “How flattering.”

He made a mocking bow.

“And who are you?” she asked without thinking much of it, and belatedly realized how much she was asking. 

He averted his eyes.

Before the silence chilled them, Hermione moved closer and took his hands in hers. “May I?”

He didn’t give her permission, but he didn’t forbid her, either.

“I don’t claim to know you as well as I long to.” She smiled, trying to warm him and his cold hands. “You’re different from the man I met during the war. Before you interrupt me, I’ll let you know that you’re still as forbidding, unfair, deliberately cruel and brilliant as ever, but back then, you seemed somehow… incomplete. I don’t know what was missing, but after these past crazy months, I don’t think it’s missing anymore. Maybe it’s because we’ve spent more time together, or it was just the impression you left on me when you were under such severe stress during the war, I’m not sure. I do like this version of you better, though.”

“My turn. I’m forbidding, unfair, deliberately cruel and brilliant.”

She laughed. “And what else?”

He inverted the hold she had on his hands and looked intently at them. “Nathan changed me,” he admitted.

The mention of their son in such an important way made her heart expand. “He completes me, too.” She freed one hand to clear his eyes by placing his hair behind his ear. “You and Nathan do.” She kissed him tenderly and cuddled to his side. He welcomed her into a one-arm hug, pulling her to him. 

She ended up dozing off that way, taking the heat of his body for blanket and his heartbeat as a perfect lullaby.

“Hermione.”

“Hm.”

“Wake up.”

She tried to obey his voice, rubbing her face on his chest. It was so nice. “No,” she told him. If she woke up now, the dream of him would disappear, and she would miss him so badly.

“Hermione.”

She opened her heavy eyelids and smiled sleepily when he didn’t disappear. “I’m awake.”

He pushed her hair aside and placed brief kisses on her lips and forehead. “Go to bed.” He helped her stand. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She walked with him to the door and held him by the hand before he could leave. 

“I miss you already.” 

He kissed her and left, disappearing into the darkness of the corridor.

~o0oOo0o~

There was the usual commotion in the Great Hall when Harry Potter came in with Headmistress McGonagall. Nathan smiled and waved at his godfather, who waved back on his way to the Head Table.

“I love it when Harry Potter fills in for Professor Lupin,” Kevin commented.

“So do I,” Nathan agreed. He couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. On her letter, Aunt Ginny had told him that his godfather would bring his Prince family insignia. It had finally arrived!

After the morning classes, Nathan stopped by the Defense classroom, where he found his godfather fixing some duel dummies. He knocked on the opened door. Harry looked up.

“Nathan.” His godfather smiled, beckoning him. “Come in. I’m almost done here.” He fixed another dummy. “Where are your friends?”

“I told them I was making a stop before heading for lunch and I think they thought I meant the library.”

Harry laughed. “A true Granger.”

Nathan smiled at what he took as a compliment. 

“I’ll just lock the office and we can meet them downstairs.”

“Has Aunt Ginny sent something for me?” Nathan was too anxious to wait.

“Yes, in fact, she has. I had almost forgotten. It’s in the office. I’ll be right back.” Harry came back with a little box. “Here you have it.”

Nathan opened it right away and was amazed by the beauty of the work. “Aunt Ginny is really good with Transfiguration,” he commented.

“What is it?” Harry approached to look. “A brooch?” He looked puzzled at Nathan. “Aren’t you too young to be going after girls?”

“Girls?” Now it was Nathan who was puzzled. “Oh! No, this is not for a girl! It’s…” Nathan almost told his godfather what the insignia truly was. “It’s for a History of Magic assignment.” 

“Ah, I see. And what does it mean?” 

“It’s a really old wizarding tradition. I read a book that dated the existence of it back to Merlin’s Era.”

“Merlin? Really?” Harry circled an arm around him and pulled Nathan out of the classroom with him. “All very fascinating, I’m sure, but we’d better get going if we want to get to lunch before the food is over.”

Nathan smiled satisfied. His Prince family insignia was perfect, and he had it right in time to wear it for tea with his father this afternoon.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan entered the Potion’s master office, Gryffindor robes adorned with a traditionally Slytherin pin.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Good afternoon, Nathan. I’m finishing these essays, but we’ll go to my quarters soon. Take a seat.”

“What are the essays about?”

“Salad, it seems. It’ll never stop to amaze me how stupidly creative some dunderheads can be when asked to research Chinese Chomping Cabbage,” his father answered. “What in Merlin’s name is a bok choy?”

“It’s a Chinese dish, with cabbage.” 

Snape raised his eyes from the essay to look at Nathan, surprised.

“I like Chinese food.” He shrugged, smiling. 

Suddenly, his father’s eyes went from inquisitive to scared, as if he’d seen a ghost. “What’s that on your robes?” he asked Nathan urgently, letting go of the quill and getting on his feet. 

“It’s a Prince family insignia.” Nathan smiled, happy that his plan of surprising his father was working so well. “It’s just like yours. Did you like it?”

“Take it off.”

“What?”

“Take it off!”

Nathan stared at his father in disbelief. “Why? I have all—”

“Now, Nathan!”

He obeyed, taking the pin off without knowing why something he’d prepared as a pleasant surprise could have incited a totally opposite reaction on his dad.

“Give it here.”

Nathan did, his hand slightly shaky. 

“Where did you find this? Who gave this to you?”

“I… It was—”

“Who?” came the angry voice of his father, only now louder. 

“Uncle Harry brought it—”

The man was out the door before Nathan could even start explaining. He went after the man, trying to keep up with him as they climbed the main stairs.

“Dad!” he called, trying to make him stop. “Dad!”

When they reached the right floor, Nathan took off, running ahead of his father.

“Nathan! Go back to my office!”

Nathan ignored the order and kept running. “Uncle Harry! Uncle Harry!” he called, trying to warn his godfather of his father’s ire. “Uncle Harry!”

Harry finally appeared on the corridor. “Nathan?”

“Run, Uncle Harry! Inside!” Nathan pushed his godfather back into the office and had to make a pause to breathe. “Use the Floo!” He took another deep breath. “He’s coming after you!”

“Who? What’s going on?” 

“My dad! Run!”

“Nathan, I think I told you to go back to my office.”

“Oh, no! It’s too late!” Nathan lamented.

“What’s the meaning of this, Snape?”

“Dad, Uncle Harry only brought the Prince insignia to me. He didn’t—”

“Stay out of this, Nathan,” his father dismissed. Addressing Harry, he accused, “Are you trying to corrupt my son, to put him against me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I don’t like your tone, Snape, nor the way you’re talking to my godson.”

“Dad, please. He has nothing—”

“That you could never forget the Half-Blood Prince fiasco is one thing, but to use my son to get your little revenge on me was somewhat unexpected even for you, Potter.” Snape’s wand made its way to his hand.

So did Harry’s. 

Nathan’s eyes went wide. It all happened too fast, at once.

His godfather cried, “Drop the wand, Snape!”

His father flicked his wand. “Incendio.” 

The pin bearing the Prince insignia fell to the stone floor like a piece of wood burning with angry flames. 

Nathan gasped, watching wide-eyed to the destruction of what he’d worked weeks to prepare, with the help of Aunt Ginny, as a surprise for his father.

“Don’t mess with my son again, Potter,” the snarled voice of his father warned, “or next you’ll be the one burning. Let’s go, Nathan.” 

Harry placed himself in front of Nathan, protectively. “He’s not going anywhere with you, Snape. What was that? What did you burn?” 

“The Prince family insignia.” Nathan found his voice, his eyes fixed on where the pin had burned to ashes.

Silence, rough and heavy, fell over them, both men suspended by Nathan’s quiet words.

“I don’t understand…” He looked up at his father, a tear running down his face. “You destroyed it, but I—”

“You’re not a Prince,” his father told him vehemently. “Potter used you to get to me, and for that he’ll pay. You’ll never be one of them; you’ll never be a Prince.”

Mind reeling, Nathan gave little notice to his father’s explanations. “I asked Aunt Ginny to make it for me. It was supposed to be a surprise for you, a good one.” Nathan still didn’t know where his plan had gone wrong. He looked at where the insignia had burned again. “I’m sure it was just like the one you wore at Malfoy Manor. It was the Prince insignia, I’m sure of that.” 

“You took him to Malfoy Manor?” Harry asked Snape and was ignored. 

Nathan looked back at his father. “You’re a Prince, I can’t have been wrong about that.”

“What are you trying to say? That _you_ had the insignia done? That this was your idea, and not Potter’s?” His father started towards him.

“Stay where you are, Snape!” Harry warned.

Snape wandlessly disarmed Harry. “Shut up, Potter.” Stopping in front of Nathan, he asked, “Why did you do this?”

“I…” Another tear overflowed from his eyes, but his dad put it away before it ran down his already damp face. “I just wanted to be part of your family,” Nathan confessed, realizing what had been his real reason behind wanting to wear the insignia. 

His father shook his head. “They don’t deserve you. You’re not like them, and if it’s within my power to keep things this way, I will.”

Nathan couldn’t prevent the hurt from showing on his face.

“No, no. This doesn’t mean you’re not my son, my only family. You’re a Granger, and you can be a Snape, if you want to, but you’re in no way anything like those despicable Princes.”

Nathan shook his head, still not believing this could have gone so wrong. He’d done his research; he hadn’t even thought his father could react so badly to a insignia he wore, supposedly with pride. Nathan bit his bottom lip to hold a sob. 

“Be useful, Potter. Get us some tea. The boy needs tea.”

He was being guided to a chair by strong hands, and it angered him. “I don’t need any tea.” Nathan shrugged the hands off. “Stop treating me as if I were a baby.” 

“Son, I didn’t mean to scare you—”

“I’m not scared,” he countered.

“Of course you’re not,” the man agreed, lower. “You’re angry.”

Nathan couldn’t deny that with the same vehemence, so he chose to let the comment go without response. 

“I can’t let you wear an insignia of murderers and Muggle haters. Believe me when I tell you that there’s no glory in the Prince name, Nathan. You’re not like them, and I don’t want you to even think about it again. Do you understand?”

“They invented the chocolate frog. They were famous potioneers. Why—”

“It’s not worth it.”

Nathan wasn’t convinced. “If it’s such a bad thing to be a Prince, why do you use their insignia?”

“I…” His father hesitated, looking at Harry. “We’re going back to the dungeons to finish this conversation there.” The man pulled him by the arm; Nathan shrugged it off again.

“I want to know, Dad.”

Snape closed his eyes. “I, unlike you, Son, am one of them.”

“This doesn’t make any sense!” Nathan argued, and pain made its way back into his face.

“I’m not a good man.” He made to take Nathan’s arm again, but returned his hand to his side. “Come with me, please.”

“Why do you think you’re not a good man?”

“Nathan, please.”

“You’re always looking after me, even before we knew you were my dad, even when I do something wrong. Mom told me about how you’ve always protected her and Uncle Harry.” Realizing where they were and who was there with them, Nathan directed the question to his godfather. “Isn’t it true, Uncle Harry? Didn’t my dad protect you all?”

“Yes, he did,” Harry answered eyeing Snape strangely.

His father sighed. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me all these years, but the truth is… not pleasant.”

“What truth? Do you hate Muggles?”

“I have nothing against Muggles.” 

“Are you a murderer?”

The man pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to formulate his response when the unlikeliest thing happened…

“No, he’s not,” Harry Potter answered. “He’s one of the heroes, like your mother and I.”

“Stay out of this, Potter.”

“He’s a moody and cruel hero, but a hero nonetheless.”

“So he shouldn’t wear the Prince insignia, if it’s meant for murderers,” Nathan reasoned with his godfather.

“For Merlin’s sake! I’m your father, not him. He has no say about any of this!”

“If you continue to wear the Prince insignia, I’ll have to wear one, too,” Nathan explained.

“I forbid you!”

“It’s how it works. Tradition dictates that I can only wear the insignia of my ancestry. You give me no choice but to wear the Prince insignia.”

“Don’t try me on this, Nathan. Your impertinence won’t be tolerated on this matter.” 

“I believe we have an impasse,” Harry interrupted when Nathan had his answer ready to deliver.

“Potter—”

“We’ll think better over tea,” Harry kept saying. “I’ll have a tray delivered. Would you like some biscuits, Nathan?”

“Yes, please.”

“So it’s perfectly fine if _he_ offers tea,” his father mumbled, following them to the armchairs.

Tea was served, biscuits were eaten, and the silence was loud.

“We still have an impasse to settle. What do you suggest we do about it, Nathan?” Harry inquired.

Nathan looked at his father eyeing Harry with clear anger. 

“I suggest my dad stops wearing the Prince insignia.” Then, directly at him, Nathan added, “You’re not a murderer, Dad, and you’re not a Muggle hater, either. You’re a hero.”

“Severus?”

“Potter!” his father snapped. When Nathan thought that would be his father’s only word, that he would never agree, he gritted out an annoyed, “Fine.”

Nathan smiled. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Severus is trying, he truly is. It’s just that it’s so difficult for him. Poor man… At least Hermione and Nathan know him a little better and can see through his insecurities. :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** The end of Nathan’s first year, and the start of Severus’ family life.


	35. Insecurities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our little family struggles with each other's insecurities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It's all J. K. Rowling's.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!
> 
> Chapter Thirty Five! Our little family struggles with each other's insecurities.

Severus' plan to contact Hermione that Wednesday had gone down the drain after the whole misunderstanding with Nathan. The time he'd thought he would be spending with her, Severus had had to spend with Nathan, or else his conscience wouldn't give him rest.

He'd taken the boy back to the dungeons after the awkward tea with Potter, and they'd shared dinner. Out of it, Nathan had extracted another promise from him. Severus was definitely getting mellow around his son, and he blamed his guilty conscience.

Worse than an evening away from Hermione and two extracted promises had been Potter's nosiness.

When Severus had arrived with Nathan in Gryffindor Tower, Potter had come seemingly out of nowhere to interfere—again.

"I didn't see you at dinner," he'd commented.

"I had dinner in my dad's quarters. We had to discuss the new family insignia." Nathan grinned at Potter and then looked at Severus with such happiness that it almost made up for the promises and Potter's presence.

"A new Prince insignia?"

"No, no. We won't be wearing that insignia anymore. Right, Dad?" Nathan had answered Potter, looking for Severus' support.

Severus had given him his support, nodding and reaffirming his first promise.

"Dad and I will be developing a totally new family insignia," Nathan had gone on. "One for _our_ family, starting with us."

His boy had sounded so proud that Severus was amazed, even now, at the remembrance.

"A Snape insignia?" Potter had inquired.

"No." The annoyance at Potter's slow brain in Nathan's tone had made Severus smirk. "We'll make a Granger-Snape insignia, of course," Nathan had told the annoying Potter, sharing Severus' second promise.

"Oh," Potter had answered. "Of course."

It was then that Potter's expression had changed; it still made Severus uncomfortable every time they had to be in the same room since. The man's green eyes had rested on him as if seeing Severus for the first time in his life. As annoying as Potter had ever been, it was nothing compared to how he'd been acting after that encounter—polite, respectful, and there was the staring… inquisitive, contemplative. Severus dreaded it. What could he be planning?

There wasn't time to find out before Hermione would be in. Severus would have to keep an eye on Potter, to make sure he wouldn't put his nose in Severus' business again, this time where Hermione was concerned.

In that spirit, he took the seat next to Potter at dinner. Hermione arrived soon after and took the seat on Severus' other side, smiling sweetly at him.

"Hello."

He would have wanted to greet her properly, but… "Good evening, Hermione." It would have to suffice.

She beamed at him, nonetheless.

"Hello, Hermione."

Her smile dimmed accordingly before she answered Potter's greeting. "Harry."

Things were still chilled between the two friends. _Good,_ Severus approved. It would make his job easier.

"What has kept you so busy this week?" she asked Severus, obviously a reference to his complete absence during the last several days.

"I… Potter's presence in the castle has a negative effect on the students, and it's always busier during his visits."

She patted his hand, on the table, where everyone could see.

"I'm sure you'll be able to relax over the weekend." Her smile was telling, but not more than her hand, still lingering over his.

Oh, her tender touch deserved kissing and touching back—her soft skin, her gentle face, her delightful lips…

"Since I'll be staying until tomorrow," Potter intruded, "do you think we could talk about the developments in your research before I leave?"

She let go of his hand. Severus really hatted Potter.

"I don't see why not," she agreed, business-like.

Severus wondered if her reticence in talking to Potter was still a side-effect of Potter's loose tongue and consequent leak of information on Severus' relationship to Nathan.

"Meet me in Severus' office after breakfast tomorrow, and I'll make a report then."

After dinner, when the students were all locked in their common rooms and dormitories—or in known hiding places he would be avoiding tonight—Severus went to Hermione's quarters and knocked once.

Her smile at seeing him always had his heart racing. "I thought I'd have to hunt you down through the dungeons. What took you so long?"

Before he could justify his absence or the late hours, she pulled him into a kiss.

He decided he would never tire of her lips.

Never.

When he next became aware of himself, he'd crossed the room, Hermione pressed to his chest, her eyes hooded, her lips moist, and her back against the wall.

"We shouldn't go so long without each other," she commented, cupping his face in both her hands and smiling. "I missed you so much." She kissed him again, not with the earlier urgency, but tenderly, reverently.

"I had planned on seeing you on Wednesday," he told her, reveling in the feel of her silken curls catching on the rough skin of his callused fingers.

"What made you change your plans?"

He watched a curl of her hair spring away from his finger as he stepped back. "Nathan had an unfortunate idea that kept me occupied."

"Nathan? I thought you said Harry had kept you."

"Potter was involved."

She took him by the hand to lead him to the couch, a motion he could grow used to very easily. "Tell me what happened."

"Nathan showed up to our meeting wearing a family insignia."

"A family insignia? Isn't it an ancient, pureblood traditional object?"

He nodded. "It took me by surprise, too."

"What did Harry have to do with it?"

"Ms. Potter made the insignia for Nathan."

"Ginny? Okay, you lost me. Start from the beginning."

Where to begin, though? Should he tell her about the yelling, the near hexing, or their boy's tears first? He sighed.

"Nathan thought I would like to see him wearing the Prince family insignia, but that was the last thing I wanted to see on him."

He wanted her to say something to confirm that she knew all his implied reasons, but she remained silent.

"I asked, and he told me it had been brought to him by Potter," he continued.

"And you didn't wait to hear the rest, did you?"

She had not disappointed him, but the fact that he'd been waiting for her to reach this conclusion didn't make her statement less unsettling. He left the couch and stopped in front of the window. "I was certain that Potter was trying to put my son against me. I lost my temper," he confessed.

"You confronted Harry."

It was his time to be silent.

"By the seating arrangement at dinner, may I presume that everything is settled now?"

Although nothing could convince him that Potter wasn't up to something, he nodded. "Nathan had asked Ms. Potter to make the insignia, not Potter."

He heard her approach from behind. He could see her reflection in the window, and it helped him accept the hand she placed on his shoulder without flinching.

"Was there hexing involved?" she asked.

He looked intently at her reflected face, but he couldn't find any visible signs of reproach on it, only concern. He turned, and her hand slipped down to take his.

"No, but only because Nathan intervened," he told her.

The fear showed through her slightly widened eyes, now. Her hand, though, kept holding his.

"There wasn't hexing involved," he said, trying to reassure her. "I talked to Nathan, and the matter was clarified. Precious Potter is safe and sound."

"It's not Harry I'm worried about." He'd known that even before she'd said it, so his surprise came with what she said next. "It's you I'm worried about." She pulled him back to the couch, and he could only comply. Caressing his face, she continued, "Why did seeing the Prince family insignia on Nathan bother you to the point of making you believe you were being attacked?"

"That's not of importance." If her hands holding his weren't so comforting, he would have fled the couch again. "The insignia was destroyed, and I'll make it up to Nathan by working with him on a new one."

She moved closer and found a way into his arms. "I know that talking about the past can be painful, but it would make me happy to be able to help you with it. Maybe, with time, we'll get there." She looked up, and he could feel the warmth of her smile.

He held her closer and tighter. He wasn't ready to talk about his past with her, about a life he was hoping to leave well alone into his memories. _She_ wasn't ready to hear about it—at least not if he wanted her to stay where he needed her, right here, in his arms.

He was lost in thoughts and didn't notice the silence stretching and time passing.

"Just don't go too far, where I won't be able to reach you."

Her quiet words made his wandering mind shy away from the darkness of the past. He blinked down at her and accepted her loving kiss, relaxing into her arms and choosing her as the only place he wanted to lose himself in tonight.

How had he survived this long without this?

~o0oOo0o~

"Hermione?"

"In here!" she called out, coming into the office from the lab. "Take a seat. I'm only finishing stoppering some samples for you."

From the alcove, hidden for years by shelves, Severus could see Potter take one of the chairs in front of his desk, while Hermione disappeared from view again. They waited for her return.

"Here." She placed a few vials on his desk and took Severus' chair. "I've had some success with a modified base, but there's nothing conclusive, yet. I need to run more tests before I'm able to tell you if we're ready for the next step."

"That's brilliant," Potter told her, taking a vial in his hand and toying with it.

Severus knew then that he'd been right to come here this morning and watch Potter. It was obvious that the brat had an ulterior motive for this meeting.

"Hermione," Potter started, putting the vial back with the others. "I… I didn't call this meeting to discuss the research. I wanted to talk to you about Snape, but I didn't want him to know."

"Harry—" Severus could notice her irritation.

"No, wait. Don't jump into conclusions. I've seen him with Nathan, and I no longer believe you made a bad decision."

That stalled Hermione's words and made Severus frown in thought.

"Nathan cares for him."

"I know, Harry."

"He really looks up to Snape, and Snape… he does care for Nathan," Potter said in awe. "I… I was wrong, I'm sorry."

"Although I knew you were being unfair, I was never angry with you because you doubted him. I knew you wouldn't accept the situation right away, so that didn't surprise me. What did was your lack of trust of me. You should have trusted me or at least recognized my authority in the matter. That really hurt and angered me."

"I know that, now. I'm really sorry, Hermione."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence, and Severus would have left his hiding place to smack Potter, if he could be certain that Hermione would let him get away with it.

"I've never seen Snape listen to anyone the way he does Nathan. It's like I don't know Snape at all."

"I don't think you do. If you did, you would have never doubted him in the first place. But that's all in the past, now. Nathan loves his father, and I know Severus loves Nathan just as much. Everything is on the mend now."

"He must really hate me." Potter looked everywhere but at Hermione, and Severus caught his eyes and the sadness in them.

"You don't know that, Harry."

"I thought it was just the way he went about things and people, you know? But I've seen him with Nathan, and the way he wanted to protect him from any harm… It was nothing like the way he used to protect us. What Nathan wanted mattered. What Nathan thought was more important than what Snape wanted. I didn't think I would live to see Snape apologize like he did."

"They're learning how to be father and son."

Potter stared at his hands, and Hermione watched him, waiting as much as Severus for what was visibly building up in his mind to leave his mouth.

"Years ago," Potter quietly started, watching his own hands while he spoke, "when you were working with Snape, when Nathan…"

_Dear Merlin!_

"Did you love him?" Potter asked.

"It wasn't as simple as that," Hermione answered. "There were much more pressing issues to occupy our minds, the war was raging, building up to its end, and feelings were more complicated to identify, then. But in retrospect, with the experience I have now, yes, I did."

"And… Did he… Did he love you back?"

Hermione lost her faraway look and lowered her eyes to the vials. "I don't know, Harry. I think it very unlikely. A life spent in warfare can really make a person classify such feelings as frivolous or silly. Only Severus would be able to answer you."

"If you didn't think he had feelings for you, why did you go through with…? I mean, you have a son together! I had some time to analyze things, and I can understand how you would think he was a man worthy of your attention. You were always one to go for the brains and not the looks, and Snape is quite powerful and intelligent, and you spent a lot of time being brilliant together. But your pregnancy doesn't fit! You obviously knew how to avoid that!"

Severus was feeling dizzy with dread. This conversation was turning out even worse than what he'd expected.

"No method is one hundred percent fail-proof. Besides, that's irrelevant. Nathan is twelve. As good or as bad as an unplanned pregnancy was, it's all very much a moot point, now. Why are you bringing this up? Where are you trying to get with this conversation?"

"Hermione, I… Do you love him still?"

"Yes, I do," she answered right away, making Severus' heart beat faster. Potter turned from her, trying to hide his grimace. He could drop dead, and Severus' happiness would be complete. Potter closed his eyes and faced Hermione again.

"Does he know?"

"Yes, he knows."

"You're together, then?" It had a hopeful note of doubt in Potter's almost question.

Severus smirked, knowing that Potter might _actually_ drop dead before this conversation was over.

"What do you think?" Hermione asked, surprising both Severus and Potter.

Potter sighed. "It would explain a lot. I mean, he was chatting with you, letting you touch him. I don't think he would be agreeable to that otherwise."

 _Well spotted, Potter._ Severus rolled his eyes. He would have to caution Hermione about touching him in public if she had been serious about keeping their lives private. The least she could do now was deny everything.

She hadn't said anything, yet.

"Maybe I read more than there was to read," Harry said visibly uncomfortable with her silence. "I just want you to know that I don't think it would be bad for Nathan if you were—as long as you said you love him, and considering that he would have any kind of feelings left in there somewhere. Although, thinking better of it, he might just have, if what I saw between Nathan and him was any indication. He's intelligent enough to keep up with you both, and he'll be a good father if he wants to. He might even have the potential to be a good husband as well, if his heart is in it and if he tries really, really—"

"Harry."

Thank Merlin she'd stopped him! Severus had to check if his eyes were still in place after hearing the word 'husband' associated with him, and out of Potter's mouth, no less!

"You're babbling," she added when she knew she had Potter's attention. She was smiling, the silly woman! "I'm glad you changed your mind about Severus and can trust my judgment now. It means a lot to me." She smiled again.

Potter looked at her, expecting more, perhaps. Severus was quite satisfied, though. Their relationship was none of Potter's business. None.

"You're not saying more, are you?"

Her smile turned into a grin. "I don't think so."

Severus could have kissed her right there and then, if only Potter would do something more than sigh and brood—like leave, for instance.

"Here, take the samples." Hermione offered him the vials. "I'll let you know when we're ready to take the next step."

Severus got the second meaning of her words and smiled with her. Potter stood to leave, taking the vials with him. Severus watched her hug him.

"I'll wait for your word."

"Send my best to Ginny and the kids."

"I will. Take care, Hermione."

~o0oOo0o~

Would Severus be hiding in an alcove near the exit of the Great Hall after lunch on a Saturday if he hadn't listened to Hermione's conversation with Potter? Probably not. Would he be contemplating seizing and kissing her right there where anyone could catch them? Probably, but that was because little else other than Hermione crossed his mind these days. What Severus hadn't anticipated was her yelp of surprise and the way her elbows could go down so hard on his stomach when he pulled her from the corridor to the alcove with him.

"Hermione," he hissed, holding a hand over her mouth. She stopped struggling in his arms. He took his hand away.

"You startled me," she whispered, turning in his arms to face him before looking around them. "What are we doing here?"

He bent over and simply kissed her, long and languidly.

"You're snogging me in an alcove."

He lifted an eyebrow and smirked at her observation, which made her laugh. Severus was obliged to quiet her with another kiss before someone actually found them there. Afterwards, of her laughter only a smile lingered, stubborn.

"What's this all about? Are you feverish?" She touched his forehead in jest. "What would the headmistress have to say if she caught us here, like this?"

"That we're no better than the students at hiding, if you don't stop talking." He leaned over, stopping inches from her mouth to enunciate, "Shut. Up." He kissed her growing smile away.

He'd lost track of the time and space when voices and footsteps approaching brought him back to where they stood. He pulled her against his chest more firmly and into the shadows of the alcove, turning his black back to the corridor. The voices were already moving away when he felt her trembling in his arms—holding back laugher, he realized.

"Severus, this is a lot of fun, but I think I'm ready to move somewhere I can snog you properly without interruptions. I'm sure you know of the best places in the castle for that."

He stared down at her beautiful face and amused eyes while trying to decide what his heart was trying to do to him. He felt like smiling back at her to complete his silly display of teenage behavior. He felt like introducing himself to her—simply Severus—and starting anew, from the very beginning, where she wouldn't know him as this sorrowful, shattered man.

Severus pushed the waves of her hair back and watched her watching him. The words Potter had said to her played in his mind again. He wanted to be able to be what Potter had implied he could be. He wanted to make her happy, take her into his protection and care. He wanted her in, to take her in, and be hers.

"I love your eyes," she observed suddenly. "They're like precious stones when they shine in the light like this. It's mesmerizing," she whispered before kissing him softly on the lips and thumbing his eyebrows, framing his face with her soft hands.

"Follow me," he whispered back, making his decision and leaving the alcove.

~o0oOo0o~

She followed Severus through the corridors and into the dungeons. The way he'd stared at her, as if trying to tell her through his eyes something of his soul… It had been the most intimate moment they'd shared. It made her wonder where he was taking her.

He stopped at the door to his quarters, and she was right behind him when he stepped inside. Hermione's heart started racing while she waited for him to close and ward the door. He moved closer and took her hand, pulling her with him through a door in his quarters she hadn't crossed before.

She was inside his bedroom for the first time.

"Severus…"

Before she could think what to say, he pulled her again, and they left the bedroom and entered another room.

What her eyes met was so completely unexpected that it took her a moment to realize Severus had released her hand. She looked over her shoulder and found that he hadn't gone far but was just standing a step behind, watching her reaction.

"Where are we?" she asked, staring wide-eyed at the glass walls—or would they be floor-to-ceiling windows? The light filtering through the water outside left a greenish rue about everything. She approached the glass to see the life swimming by and felt him come behind her.

"A good part of the dungeons is under the lake." His arms came around her waist.

"It's lovely."

His head rested over hers, and she let her body relax on his. They observed the water in a comfortable silence. She would never have thought of a room like this in Hogwarts, an aquarium.

"I used to spend hours watching the lake." His voice flowed through her body as slowly as the drifting plants in the water.

"It's calming," she agreed. "If I knew there was a room like this when I was a student here, I'd have used it for studying or simply reading. It's a tempting refuge."

He grunted an agreement, and they resumed the comfortable silence. One might assume the room would be cold, but it felt rather cozy to her. Maybe it was just the feeling of his arms around her, his chin on her head.

"The Slytherin common room has a similar wall," he told her.

"I never knew. You Slytherins are good at keeping secrets." She dislodged his chin to turn her head and smile at him. "Something else you kept well hidden was this adventurous streak of yours. I knew Slytherins were cunning, but to actually use this as a ploy to abduct me into an alcove and snog me where anyone could find us. You're full of surprises," she told him with a reminiscent smile. "I wonder what other hidden talents I'll find in you."

"I'm a man of many talents," he answered very close to her ear.

"And a tease," she whispered back, almost a gasp.

To kiss him was the least she could do. Maybe he'd show one of his talents, then. Maybe kissing her back the way he was doing was talent enough already. Of one thing Hermione was sure: she would not leave him until she'd uncovered all his secrets.

His intense eyes… the way he was holding her with such care… Hermione knew she was about to see something of him she hadn't seen yet. Would he tell her something? Would he ask something? Would he touch somewhere his hands hadn't gone yet?

She was lost in his eyes.

~o0oOo0o~

It was so easy to be here with her and forget everything else. Maybe the reflections the water was casting on her face made it easier to believe she was a goddess out of his dreams. There was so much to _feel_.

"What have I done to deserve you?"

Her soft hand came to caress his cheek, his lower lip.

"You make me say things I wouldn't normally say. You make me forget who I am," he continued as if he was, indeed, in one of his dreams with her. "You make me want to be the man I see reflected in your eyes." He planted a kiss on her forehead and pulled her head to his chest.

All this turmoil because of what he'd heard Potter say to her, because she admitted her love for him to Potter and got the man's approval as an answer.

He wanted to tell her how much he'd been affected by what he'd heard.

 _A good husband…._ He could never ask this of her. He wouldn't make her tie herself to him.

"Severus."

 _A family…._ Was he ready? Could he be that man? Should he offer all of him to her?

"You can be whoever you want to be, and it won't change what I see in you."

He pulled back to see her face—utterly adorable lips and sincere eyes. "Are you sure of this, Hermione? I'm still not convinced you know what you're signing up for."

"You will be, in time."

She kissed him tenderly but firmly, and it reassured him to believe that she could convince him. That she would. Someday. Soon, he hoped. Very soon.

"You give very little space for reasonable thinking," he pointed out.

She only laughed, disentangling from his embrace to roam the room. "Why isn't there furniture here? A couch would be nice."

"I…" And in that second his bubble broke. Did he want to tell her? Did he want her to know what he'd gone through here? "I destroyed the furniture and never replaced it."

Her smile was gone the same instant the words left him.

_Damn._

She frowned and tilted her head at him. He didn't want her to ask why, he really didn't. How could he bring her here? How could he believe in dreams so easily? She looked around the room with more attention than before.

"What was in this room before?"

"A desk, a couple of chairs," he paused before taking a breath, "a settee."

All she did was nod silently at his answer. He waited for the question that really mattered—he waited for the why—but it wasn't coming. She was circling the empty room, approaching him without deliberation, and he waited, holding the urge to flee. She passed by him without saying a word, stopping in front of the lake.

He closed his eyes. "This is where I usually reported to Albus."

The noisy reaction he'd expected never came.

Instead… "I see why it needed a redecoration." A statement. Calm.

"I had to get rid of it. It was too…." Why were the words flowing? Where were they coming from? Severus felt the pain but couldn't identify its origin.

"There's a portrait of him in Minerva's office."

He couldn't help the snort that escaped him; nor could he resist the hand that reached and touched his back.

"Have you ever talked to him?" she asked tentatively.

"I have." He would leave it at that, but then… "It's only a portrait, Hermione. It can't forgive me, even if there was any chance for forgiveness. Talking to it is just–" He halted his words again, unsure of their purpose, their origin.

"Awful, I know." She took his arm around her shoulders and snuggled to his side. "I couldn't get past the 'Hi.'"

He felt very inadequate but accepted her warmth and the soothing view of the calm waters of the lake anyway. He'd brought her here with the intention of sharing something special with her, but never this. His hope was making him lose perspective. This woman could say how beautiful his eyes shone in the light, or how far she would go to accept him, or even how much she _loved_ him, and it wouldn't change who he really was, the crimes he'd committed.

No, he would not push her away. He was truthful enough with himself to admit that he might not survive if he did. However, it was imperative that he shouldn't expect more than whatever she offered. He couldn't force her to fulfill the promises she'd made. After all, she hadn't known there would be no way to keep them.

When she was through with him, he would let her go.

But not one second earlier.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus returned to the table where he usually hosted their Sunday dinners and rejoined Nathan, who'd been sitting quietly there for hours, buried in books he'd provided. He placed a glass of pumpkin juice in front of his son and won a smile for his thoughtfulness.

"So," he instigated, "have you found anything of interest?"

"Runes," Nathan answered, turning the book opened in front of him and pointing at a specific topic on the page.

Severus ran his eyes over the text about Viking Runes with curiosity. "Why not Celtic Runes?"

"Everybody goes for Celtic Runes." Nathan shrugged. "We're not everybody."

"No, we're not," Severus agreed. It never stopped to surprise and amaze him how much of his young self he could see in Nathan. Working together to develop this new family insignia was proving to be more pleasurable than Severus had anticipated. He'd had the opportunity to work with his son before, but only in practical tasks of potion-making. Here, surrounded by books, developing something new, elicited a connection of another, deeper level.

"What exactly do you want from the runes?" Severus asked next, unable to pass an opportunity to pick at his son's mind.

"Well, runes can add protections and other magical properties to objects, right?"

Severus nodded.

"If we choose well, we can turn the insignia into a powerful object." Nathan lifted a hand to his neck, pulling at the chain there. "It could be like my necklace." He showed the pendant Severus had given him for Christmas—the potion-enhanced pendant. "For protection," Nathan added, smiling.

"Very well."

After another hour of study, they'd come up with a number of possible runes that could add meaning and magical properties to the insignia. But, apparently, Nathan was not yet satisfied.

"Is there a potion we could use to make it indestructible?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Why would anyone be interest in destroying the insignia?"

Nathan averted his eyes to the first book he found opened near him, and pretending to be examining something in it, he answered, "You destroyed the Prince one."

Severus cursed himself again for that slip in control and harsh reaction. "I might know of a potion or two for that purpose."

"I could help you brew." His son looked at him, then, hopeful.

"We'll see. For now, I believe we have enough information to start. Perhaps your mother would agree to join us on Saturday."

Nathan didn't look very happy at the prospect, which puzzled Severus.

"What is the matter?"

"Nothing."

"It's obviously something," Severus insisted. When Nathan continued to hold on an answer, Severus pressed, "What is it? Spit it out."

"I thought we would be doing this together, only the two of us," Nathan mumbled.

"Isn't this the _Granger_ -Snape insignia?" He lifted an eyebrow at his son.

"Yes, but…"

"Don't you think your mother would want to be a part of this, too?" His boy looked chagrinned. "We'll want her for the Transfiguration, in any case."

"Why?"

"Too much wand-waving involved for my taste." He smirked and got a small smile in response. "We'll resume our activities on Saturday."

"Fine," Nathan agreed halfheartedly. "May I at least take the books with me?"

"You may." Before the small celebration his son was making would even end, Severus added, "If I find out your school work has suffered in any way, this little project will be interrupted until the term is over. Are we understood?"

Nathan only grinned more widely. "Yes, Dad. Thank you." Severus was hugged before Nathan gathered the books and left.

Then Severus smiled.

He smiled again when he was welcomed by Hermione's kiss later that evening. She was in the kitchen of her apartment, finishing preparing the meal they'd be sharing, while he spoke of the afternoon with Nathan.

"…so I've decided you're in charge of whatever transfiguration work will be needed."

"And, let me guess, you'll take care of the potions, if there are any involved."

"Don't forget the runes."

"I thought Nathan was in charge of the runes," she teased.

"We're working on them together," he answered, and he knew she was smiling, even if her back was to him while she prepared the salad.

"I'm glad this is progressing well. I know Nathan can be overwhelming at times, especially when he's excited about something."

"I was twelve once. I know what to expect. We'll be just fine."

She turned to look at him, tilting her head quizzically, making Severus feel uncomfortable.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm trying to imagine you at twelve." She smiled again, handing him the salad and passing him by to reach the table.

"Nathan doesn't leave much to the imagination," he said quietly, placing the salad on the table and taking his seat, "except that he has your nose and an overall healthier complexion. He's perhaps taller than I was at his age. His hair is…" He caught himself before he rambled some more. She was already staring at him from across the table as it was. He served himself and occupied his mouth with food, trying to control his blood and avoid blushing.

"I like your nose. It goes well with how you carry yourself; it has personality."

He snorted, unable to control his blood this time and blushing horribly.

"But I may agree that it might have been too much on a boy's face."

"You have no idea."

"Maybe I have. Let's just say that I'm glad Nathan has hair more like yours than mine." Now it was she who seemed embarrassed. "Anyway," she focused on her plate, "I should probably work on my rusty transfiguration skills before Saturday, then."

~o0oOo0o~

"Like this?"

"Yes. Now, try it with the incantation."

Nathan and Hermione were on the final stage, now. They sat on the table in Severus' quarters, transfiguring and charming the insignias to the shape and size they'd agreed upon during dinner. Severus was reading by the fire, declaring again that silly wand-waving wasn't for him. To Hermione, the statement hid the fact that he was more tired than usual. Maybe waking up so early to collect ingredients in the cold forest on a Saturday had been too much after a busy week. Hermione smiled fondly at the recollection of his pinched demeanor and less-than-cheerful mood as they met in the Entrance Hall. He was definitely _not_ a morning person.

"Is this it?" Nathan showed her the rune engraved almost all the way through the coin-shaped object.

Hermione smiled. "It is. Try to do the same to the other runes. Be careful not to make the mark go all the way through the metal."

"All right." He concentrated on the next rune and worked on the spell. Hermione did the same to the other two soon-to-be insignias.

"Is this a Manaaz or an Ehwaz?" Hermione asked, not sure what rune Nathan had scribed in the summary they were following for the engraving.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Dad, what is this…?" Nathan didn't finish his inquiry, but left the table and approached the couch. "Mum, I think Dad is sleeping." Nathan waved the quill close to his father's nose. Severus reacted but didn't wake up. Nathan giggled.

"Nathan!" Hermione admonished him in a hushed tone.

"What do we do, then?" Nathan asked in a low voice, kneeling beside his father on the couch.

"We can't leave him here. He'll have a stiff neck in the morning," she commented.

Nathan lifted the quill again, mischievously. Hermione glared the idea out of his mind. Nathan loomed over the sleeping man. "Dad," he whispered. Then louder, "Dad." The man stirred in his sleep. Nathan grinned. "Dad," he tried again. Severus finally opened his eyes, sleepily. Finding the smiling boy looking down at him, Severus simply smiled back, pulled Nathan to him and sighed contently, closing his eyes and falling back asleep. Nathan giggled again, his head now resting on his father's chest. "What now?" the boy asked her.

Hermione had never seen a lovelier sight in her life. Her heart swelled in her chest, and all she could think about was peppering kisses on both her men until there wasn't an inch left unkissed. It took her a moment to decide to kiss first Nathan's and then Severus' forehead. Caressing the man's hair off his face, she whispered, "Severus, wake up." She kissed him softly on the cheek. "Severus."

He took a deep, lengthy breath and opened his eyes.

"Sleeping on the couch can't be good for your neck and back," she told him, unable to hide her smile, which only got bigger when she watched him realize who was snuggling to his side.

"Nathan?" His voice was rough.

"You sleep like a rock," the boy commented, grinning at his father.

"So it seems," Severus agreed and released Nathan from his involuntary embrace.

Hermione couldn't take his eyes off him. Maybe it was his tenderness observed from another point of view. His shyness, making him so approachable, close. A man unlike the wizard who exuded power and commanded respect. There was an intoxicating, ordinary coziness extracting the strength out of Hermione's legs. She longed to see him wake up every day. Their eyes connected, calling her to him.

"At least you weren't snoring," Nathan went on. "Grandpa snores so loud that Grandma has to shake him to make him stop or else no one sleeps, and he doesn't even wake up, either."

The building intensity was put on hold. "Are you done with all the wand-waving?"

"No, but we don't need to finish it now."

"What? But we're almost done!"

"And your father needs his rest. Come on, I'll walk you to the common room."

Hermione hauled Nathan out the door, Severus following them closely by. She stopped in the doorway and wished, "Good night." She wanted to kiss him, but with Nathan there…

"Good night," Severus wished back, his eyes shining deeply into hers. "Sweet dreams." His mouth lifted slowly in a smirk.

Something in that smirk held Hermione's thoughts, carrying her into bed and towards sleep. Maybe his wish would come true and her dreams would be sweet with him on them.

~o0oOo0o~

"I think my mum is dating my dad," Nathan told Andy over the chess board.

"Really?" his friend asked back, moving a pawn to attack Nathan's knight.

"Yes." Nathan moved the knight away from the threat. "Do you think that's a good thing?"

"That depends. I would have preferred if you'd left the knight where it was, but I don't think you'd care to lose a knight at this point in the game."

"I was talking about my parents."

"Oh! Sorry." The boys kept their eyes on the game. "I think parents should be together. Mine are." Andy shrugged.

"And…" Nathan hesitated. "What is it like?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, what is it like to have parents who are together?"

"It's all right." Andy shrugged again. "Ha! You didn't see my bishop!"

"And you didn't see my queen." Nathan moved the queen to take the bishop, but his mind was elsewhere. If his parents were really together…

Maybe it wouldn't change anything, and he was just thinking too much. But if he wasn't…

Did it mean that he would finally have a normal family? Would his dad move in with them? His mother had never lived with any of her boyfriends. It had always been her and Nathan, forever. Would it be different when her boyfriend was Nathan's dad?

Nathan frowned at the chessboard. It occurred to him that his father couldn't move from the castle, otherwise who would teach Potions and be Head of Slytherin? He moved a pawn forward.

"Check," Andy called after moving a knight to attack his king.

Finally paying full attention on the board, Nathan analyzed his options and sighed. He tilted the protesting king and gave up. "You win."

"Kevin," Andy called, "it's your turn!"

Nathan left his place for Kevin and sat by their side, his eyes roaming the common room. It wouldn't be bad to live here all year long. Maybe that's what they should do, come live at Hogwarts. His mother had a room already, so that wouldn't be too hard, right? Except there were no extra rooms in his father's quarters. Would he be willing to move into bigger quarters? Could he even leave the dungeons to live elsewhere in the castle? That was, if there were bigger quarters in the castle at all. None of the married professors lived with their families here, so how would he know?

Maybe Nathan would find some answers in _Hogwarts: A History_. He went to fetch his copy.

~o0oOo0o~

"Mitchell is always siding with Jeremy, and it's driving me crazy," Erica was saying while helping Hermione put away the groceries. "He's supposed to support me in my disciplinary decisions, but what does he do? He undermines my authority! How does he believe Jeremy will learn some respect? I should have saved to send Jeremy to a boarding school, like you did Nathan."

"Jeremy is a perfectly fine boy, well-behaved and respectful. He listens to you. He's just being eleven."

Erica was mollified by the compliments to her son, and they continued to put away the remaining items.

"Fancy cheese, good wine… Are you dating again?"

The question took Hermione off-guard.

"Don't look at me like that! As if I didn't know you well enough to put this—" Erica lifted the bottle of wine from the counter "—and this—" in her other hand she had the cheese "—together and don't get the real meaning. Who's the lucky guy? Do I know him?"

"It's no one." Hermione took the items from Erica's hand to place them in the refrigerator. "I like wine and cheese." When she turned back, Erica was staring at her as if they hadn't been friends and neighbors for the last ten years. "What?" Hermione asked self-consciously.

"I… Nothing. Do you keep the butter in the refrigerator?"

Hermione frowned. "You know I don't. I've been trying to convince you of the futility of it since I moved here."

"Just making sure you're still you."

"Erica?"

"It's none of my business, Hermione." Erica's smile was forced and painful to see. "I think I'll go see to dinner. Mitchell will be home soon." She looked around as if looking for something that wasn't there and then made for the door. "I'll see you—"

"Erica! Wait!"

The woman was visibly holding back tears.

"What's going on?" Hermione approached her friend and placed a hand on her back. Tears started falling. "Oh, no! No. What is it?" She beckoned her to the couch, offering a tissue, and waited for her to calm down, making comforting noises and rubbing Erica's back soothingly.

"It's all right. Everything is all right."

"I'm sorry for this."

"Now, now. There's no need for that. We're friends, and that's what friends are for. You taught me that, remember?"

The smile Erica gave her was less painful than before.

"You're my best friend in the world, Hermione. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, and I'm honored. You've been a great friend to me since I came to live here, and I'm very thankful for that." Hermione smiled to convey her gratitude. Without Erica, her life as a working, single mother in London would have been too much ten years ago.

"You've been distant recently," Erica started, and Hermione's smile dissolved. "With Nathan gone, it's like we don't have anything in common anymore. You're so busy with work that you're barely home, and I fear we've grown apart, and I miss my best friend."

"Oh, Erica… I'm sorry if I've been absent these last months. There's so much going on in my life, but that's no excuse for not having time for you. I'm really, really sorry. I miss you very much, too." Hermione hugged her friend. It was true, she missed Erica as much as the other woman seemed to miss her, it was just that Hermione was back amongst wizards and witches now, and the Statute of Secrecy was also back, full force, in her life. She couldn't talk about Hogwarts with Erica, or about her worries that Severus would never overcome what happened in the war, or about the war, or…. "There's no excuse." Hermione told herself and took off the couch to fetch wine and two goblets. "You know what? We're having a girls' night."

Hermione listened to Erica's news about her life in general with attention. By the time they were halfway through the bottle of wine, Hermione sipped at her goblet and thought about the things she'd been dying to talk to someone about. She sipped again and started, "I'm seeing someone."

"I knew it!" Erica exclaimed, and then more subdued, she added, "I mean, I knew you were seeing someone, but do I know him?"

"It's Nathan's father."

Erica seemed lost for words for a moment. "Hermione, that's huge!"

"I know! I thought he didn't like me at all, but then one night…" Hermione held her tongue, trying to decide if this conversation was wrong or simply felt so. Looking at her best friend and making up her mind, she continued, "He came looking for me, and without a by-your-leave kissed me like I'd never been kissed in my life." And she proceeded to tell Erica an edited version of the last few weeks of her love life.

Unfortunately for Hermione, what called to Erica's attention was the _lack_ of love life in all Hermione had told her.

"I don't know if I'm happy or sad for you. It might be just that he is the gentleman you say he is, but it's just not right to keep an adult woman waiting like this!"

"Erica! We're waiting for the right moment. He _is_ a gentleman."

"Maybe you should take the lead, show him what you want. Take him on a date and have your wicked way with him." The woman giggled like a girl.

"Okay, no more wine for you."

"I'm serious, Hermione! If you want him like you said you do, go ahead and take him!"

Hermione shook her head, unable to go on with the explanation this suggestion warranted. But after sending Erica on her way next door, when she was in bed, thinking about Severus, she couldn't take her mind off the images Erica's suggestions created. Hermione wanted Severus, and as much as she was willing to wait for him to make the first move, her desire for him only grew with each time they were alone together, exchanging kisses and caresses. It made her think about the future of their relationship.

Maybe the idea of taking Severus out on a date had merit, in the long run. Even if Severus insisted on keeping their relationship a secret, she thought that leaving the confines of the castle and her apartment might help him feel their relationship growing into something more than… Hermione didn't even know where they stood at the moment.

Perhaps that was Severus' intention, to keep what they had as far from definite and serious as possible. Although, what advantage could that hold for him?

Maybe he didn't want their relationship to grow into something more. Perhaps Severus was marking time with other plans in mind. Severus could be after Nathan, using her to get custody of her son.

Hermione shook her head. _Nathan is_ our _son!_ Things were progressing perfectly fine between them. There was no need for Severus to use her in any way to get to Nathan. They were a family already.

Were they not?

Maybe that wasn't what Severus wanted. Perhaps he wasn't able to forget what had happened between them at the end of the war.

She fell asleep with too many contradictions in her mind.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione found Severus in his office, bent over a pile of parchment, quill in hand.

"Severus."

He looked up, a startled look passing his face for a quick moment before he fixed his eyes on the hearth. "Hermione?" She watched from the Floo as he left his desk to come stand in front of her floating head. She smiled tenderly.

"Good evening. Did I interrupt you?"

"I was only grading atrocious essays. You're actually saving me the displeasure. Is there something you needed? Don't you want to come through?"

His concern and following invitation warmed her heart. Maybe Hermione had been dreading this for nothing. Perhaps her worries were nothing but unfounded. She withdrew her head to soon swirl, full body, into his office. She'd been attending to her clothes, cleaning them off soot, when her attention was drawn by the hand pushing her hair away from her face and then the lips kissing hers. She smiled.

"How was your day?" he asked, still touching her.

"Good. Better now here with you." She held his face and gave him a tender kiss of her own. "I needed to ask you something." He resumed the kissing before she could ask, and this time the kiss grew deeper. By the time they came up for air, Hermione was hard pressed to remember what words were, even less sure of what she'd intended to use them for.

"Yes?" he teased, smirking at her look of visible confusion. "You were saying?"

Recovering, she slapped him playfully on the arm. "I was saying that I came to ask you to accompany me to an award ceremony at the university Friday next."

Every sign of playful smile and sparkling eyes gone, his answer was short. "No." She also lost the warmth of his presence as he turned and went back to his desk.

"Severus?"

"The answer is no."

He took his quill, ignoring Hermione. She'd expected resistance, but his attitude was utterly unsettling. A naked 'no' without reason was not acceptable. Not after all the doubts rising in her mind.

"That's your final answer? Your full answer?" Despite his effort to ignore her, Hermione noticed that his writing hand was stilled on the paper and continued, "Are you sure you don't want to add something to it? Maybe an 'I'll be busy helping the house-elves clean the castle' or perhaps something along the lines of 'my mother doesn't allow me out with strangers after six'? Not even an 'I've a feeling I'll be ill at the time'? Nothing?"

He'd stopped pretending, at least, and crossed his arms over his chest, but he wasn't offering any excuses for his outright refusal to go with her to the ceremony.

"I see…" she voiced, disappointed. Hermione didn't want to analyze her feelings further than that, neither did she want to look much into how her self-esteem was being dented by the seconds she stood there, in his office, being turned down, her worst fears materializing before her eyes.

She turned quickly, intending to move to the hearth. Just as quickly, his hand was on her arm, holding her in place. She pulled, but he insisted on keeping hold of her.

"Hermione."

"Let go, I want to leave you alone."

"That's not what I want," he insisted, making sure she couldn't leave his grip.

She turned angrily on him. "No, it's what I want! Let go before I hex you."

He did, and she left.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus found her on the couch, head in hands, hair all over, face obscured. He had no idea what to do or what to say. His heart ached, his hands were cold and sweat, his mouth was dry, and he didn't know how to stop feeling like he would pass out at any moment.

"Why did you follow me?"

Her voice was quiet and lifeless.

"You left," he answered without thinking.

"Go home, Severus."

His heart froze, his breath caught, but his feet refused to obey. He couldn't leave. Not without knowing he would be welcome back.

"Leave," she whispered, her voice quivering. "Please, leave."

"I—I can't."

She finally looked at him, and her eyes almost knocked him down with the despair in them, but a moment later they were hidden again.

"Why does it have to be so difficult?" she asked. "Why can't we just live our lives without all the angst, the fear, the insecurity?"

"I don't know," he confessed, agreeing with her assessment. He made an effort and quietly took a place next to her on the couch.

"I spent two days trying to think of a way to ask you out, fearing your answer, unsure of my place."

"Hermione—"

"What are we, Severus? A couple? A pair of friends with a few benefits? Partners? Acquaintances? What?"

All he could think to answer was 'I love you,' but somehow he didn't think it was the right time to say that.

"Of course you don't know," she concluded from his silence. "You should really go, Severus. Don't make me beg you to leave."

"I can't leave without knowing…"

"Knowing what?" she snapped, and it took him aback.

 _If I can come back, if you'll be back, if I ruined everything, if…_ Severus' mind wasn't being very helpful.

"Knowing what?" she repeated angrily.

"I can't leave until you've forgiven me," he blurted out.

"Forgiven you? Do you even know what you did? How will my forgiving you change anything? Then, what? We go back to the limbo that is this relationship?"

"Ask me again."

She paused, looking him in the eyes.

"Ask me," he offered again.

"Ask you what?"

"Everything, starting with if I'll go with you to the stupid ceremony."

She looked confused, but did as he was asking. "Will you go with me to the award ceremony on Friday?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your man."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm yours and that I'll do anything to keep it that way, even go to a stupid Muggle ceremony."

"It's not a stupid ceremony. My mentor is being awarded a very important—"

"Irrelevant to the point," he interrupted, not wanting her to deviate from the matter of their relationship. "Hermione, don't get me wrong, but I don't care what this means to anyone else but you. If it's such a big deal to you, I'll go, just don't expect me to have a good time."

"It's important that I be there, and I want you there with me! Is that so difficult to understand?"

"In fact, it is. I don't know why you think it's a good idea to have me go with you to a Muggle public event—"

She growled in frustration, interrupting him. "I'm asking you out. We're on a date. You're my date. Don't make me ask William."

He glared. "Don't mention that moron."

"It's either you or him, your choice."

"I've said I'd go, damn it!"

He sighed. She sighed, too.

"Really, you make it sound as if I'm dragging you into a torture session. I'm exhausted by this conversation alone."

He was equally exhausted and didn't want to talk about ceremonies or stupid Muggles anymore. Severus took her hand, instead, and brought her head to his chest, placing a kiss on top of it. There would be time later to think of a way to convince her that going out to a public event together was a very bad idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is not as easy as it should be, but our little family doesn't seem to stand the idea of losing what they've achieved already. Good for them! :0)
> 
>  **Coming next…** The end of Nathan's first year, and the start of Severus' family life.


	36. Wholeness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Nathan’s first year, and the start of Severus’ family life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It’s all J. K. Rowling’s.  
>  **BETA READERS:** GinnyW and Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

Friday arrived, and Severus couldn’t get away from what Hermione insisted was a great opportunity for a perfectly normal date. Well, the term could be accurate, since he did feel like an unhinged teenager standing there, waiting for Hermione to answer the interphone. She’d insisted he use the door this time.

“Hello?” came the voice from the communicator. It didn’t sound like Hermione’s.

“Hermione?” he asked back. He heard his name in the distance and then giggles closer.

“Professor Snape, Hermione is just making sure she’ll be the most beautiful woman in attendance and will be—”

He could hear Hermione’s voice in the background before noises of interference covered it.

“Severus, it’s me. I’ll be down in a moment.”

“Very well,” he answered, pulling up the collar of his cloak. Spring was here, but the wind was still more on the cold side than not.

When the wait was starting to become annoying, Severus heard shoes on the stairs inside. Soon after, the door to the building opened to reveal a gorgeous woman, draped in a rich chocolate-brown dress that left her shoulders bare. The wind blew, and the flowing fabric hugged Hermione’s body, silhouetting what the dress tried to hide.

“I’m sorry to make you wait. Erica insisted on doing my hair, and that’s always time-consuming without—”

“Hermione, you forgot your coat.”

“Oh! Thank you, Erica.” Hermione took the proffered item, covering the peach-like skin of her shoulders with it.

“Erica Gibson.” The woman offered her hand and a discomfiting smile.

Cautiously, Severus accepted the offered hand. “Severus Snape.”

“It’s good to finally meet you, Professor Snape.”

“Likewise, Mrs. Gibson.”

The two women shared a look before Erica retreated down the hall to take the stairs up. Severus offered his arm, and Hermione took it, gifting him with a stunning smile—lipstick made her mouth even more inviting.

“Where is the car?” she asked, distracting him from the thoughts of kissing her.

“We’ll Apparate like the wizard and witch that we are.”

She shook her head, but Severus could see amusement in her eyes. They entered a niche hidden in the front of a building more to the end of the block. Severus pulled her closer, sneaking his hands under her coat and feeling the warmth coming through the thin fabric of her dress. Before Apparating, he finally kissed her.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione finally relaxed in Severus’ arms after the reassuring kiss. She hadn’t realized how nervous she’d been about this ‘date’ until now. In the days that followed her invitation, she hadn’t been able to stop trying to predict how this night would be like. Severus…. As much as she’d grown to know him better these past months, his actions were still pretty much unpredictable. She had worried that they would start the evening with her arguing with him to keep with the plan of going, but nothing of the sort had been necessary so far. In fact, he was perfectly gorgeous in his tuxedo, had tolerated Erica’s curiosity graciously, and was quite adept at kissing her worries away.

She sighed loudly with happiness.

“Where will the mind-numbing ceremony take place?”

“Stop that.” Hermione tried to keep a straight face while chastising him. These demeaning comments had become a sort of game to Severus, as much as she’d tried to make him take the event seriously. Just to get to her, he would come up with the most degrading adjectives to describe the award ceremony. In retaliation, she would come up with the most pompous and silly adjectives she could find to counteract. “The _vainglorious_ award ceremony will take place in the hall. It’s across the square, behind that building.”

He offered his arm, and she once again claimed it. Unlike their walks in the Forbidden Forest—because Severus didn’t permit himself to lower the guard and walk with her like this any other time—his step was somehow shorter, unhurried. When they were halfway through the square, he voiced a question.

“How do you want to do this?”

Hermione looked at him, wrinkling her forehead. Of all the possible questions she expected him to ask, this one had not even been on the list. “What do you mean?”

“Do you prefer to go in first? Do you want me to step in behind you? Do you want me to leave you at the door and come back to fetch you later? How do you want this?”

“Exactly like this,” she told him, and some of her incredulity with his doubts seeped into her voice. “Arm in arm is fine, Severus. And if for some reason we’re unable to keep this position, I want you behind me, touching my back, my shoulder, my hand, whatever. You’re my man—your words. This is officially a date. No secrecy, no deception, no hidden agenda.”

He didn’t say anything, and Hermione didn’t know what to make of his silence.

“Relax, please,” she begged. “I want us to enjoy the evening, that’s all. No one here knows you. You’re my date, and that’s perfectly acceptable.”

“Your _ex_ knows me.”

She groaned. “Don’t be deliberately difficult, please?” In an afterthought she added, “And don’t go looking for trouble, either. I’ll keep my eyes on you.”

They arrived at the hall, then, and just when they were making their way in, he said, “Is that a promise?”

That eyebrow, that smirk... Hermione had no chance.

~o0oOo0o~

“So…”

Severus didn’t have to look at the source of such eloquent interlocution to know this was the annoying Muggle—her _ex_ —finally having the balls to come say whatever he had to say since he saw them—Hermione and Severus—arrive unmistakably together, just like she’d asked for.

Severus didn’t take his attention off the drinks he was fetching.

“Hermione looks stunning tonight.”

Severus directed his disdain at the Muggle, then, hoping that would make him go away. Hermione was stunning in that dress, no doubt, but that was none of this bloke’s business.

“I don’t think she realizes how powerful that dress makes her. She’s too blind to realize she can have any man in this room.”

“Are you done ogling my woman, or was there some other purpose to these unwanted observations?”

“You’re too old for her, and soon she’ll—”

“Here’s what you’ll do,” Severus started, speaking slowly in what he knew from experience to be a scary voice, “you’ll take whatever shit you’ve been rehearsing in front of the mirror to throw at me and you’ll go choke yourself in it. You’ll also keep yourself and all your shit away from Hermione—”

“Just because you have a son—”

“Don’t _ever_ mention my son, again,” Severus hissed, his face inches from the other man’s, “for as long as you live.”

The Muggle’s slightly widened eyes told Severus that the man was appropriately warned.

“Do you think she’ll like to know you’re trying to control who may or may not be friends with her? We’re colleagues; we see each other every day. Will you forbid her to work, too?”

Severus was ready to take the man’s head off, when…

“Who’s forbidding whom to work?” Hermione took—with some effort—one of the flutes of champagne from Severus’ hand and hooked her arm in his to blink owlishly at the other man, then less owlishly at him.

“Your colleague here is asking what I think of you working here,” Severus answered, a most edited version of the conversation.

“And what do you think?”

“Yes, what do you think?” The Muggle emphasized Hermione’s question, and Severus didn’t like the smugness of his expression.

Looking at Hermione’s expectant eyes, he said, “I think it’s beneath you. You’re far too talented to be locked in here, teaching and researching in such limited institution full of limited people.”

The Muggle seemed affronted, but Hermione—his brilliant, beautiful Hermione—was looking back at him, shining like the most radiant being in the world. Her smile engulfed his heart and constricted his breathing.

“Come,” she told him, putting the drinks away and dragging him effortlessly by the hand. “Let’s dance.”

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione had made her excuses from the group of colleagues she’d been engaged in conversation the moment she’d realized what Severus’ body language meant and who would be the victim. She’d approached William and Severus with the intention of avoiding a scene or something worse and…

Here she was, on the dance floor, ego inflated by a man who seldom offered praise, completely lost in his eyes.

Taking Severus out of the castle and her apartment was proving to be what their relationship needed to finally shape up into something more than clandestine and tentative.

This was real.

“Hermione, I don’t dance.”

It had never been so real.

“You should.” She took his hands and brought them to her waist, then held him by the neck and started to sway with the music. “Move with me. It doesn’t have to be anything elaborate.” Hermione just didn’t want to let him go. Not now.

“We’re making fools of ourselves.”

She smiled at him. “I love you.”

He stopped swaying, and her smile faltered.

“Don’t do that,” she asked him. “You know I love you. I’ve told you before. Come on, I want to dance with you.”

“I don’t dance,” he insisted.

“Then, let’s pretend to dance, as we were doing so well.” She swayed in his arms, tucking her face under his chin.

This was solid and so very real.

She closed her eyes to feel his heartbeat. He hadn’t moved away. He was holding her, dancing with her.

They were real.

Many songs played, and they were still there, holding each other.

The music ended. Hermione looked up and _saw_ him, the man, the human being.

“Let’s get out of here.”

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione Apparated them directly into her bedroom, taking his breath away. He knew what that meant; he’d lived this scene over and over in his head, but never dared to hope. This night had been uniquely bizarre. In many moments, Severus had felt that being with her gave him a free pass to someone else’s good fortune, gave him the right to be just like the next man.

She was devouring him with her eyes. His life force came from the fire in her eyes. Her breath just as hot on his lips… she was so close. His hands trembled from the need to touch her, but his good fortune couldn’t go so far, could it? He kept them still, never taking anything for himself. He owed her this. Severus would take only whatever Hermione would offer him and nothing more.

She first offered her mouth, her tongue burning his. She pushed him down to the bed and straddled him. He broke the kiss, panting. She licked his lips and went after his throat, making him shiver.

This was more like hell, and he found himself willingly there, wanting to be consumed by her flames.

He was more aware of her breasts on his chest. A magnetic force was pulling his hands to touch her, but he forced them in the opposite direction to hover by her sides, waiting for Merlin knew what sign that they were welcome on her waist, or lower, or higher, or under, or in, or...

These were the signs of a melting brain.

He held onto her thighs but kept his hands from sliding up, where he could only imagine the amount of heat he would find, enough to consume him whole. She didn’t seem to have the same reservations and made easy work of his buttons, burning a path on his bare chest with her finger. He immediately stopped her.

“Hermione.”

“I want to taste your skin.” She tried to reach for another button, but he didn’t release her hands. She eyed him, fixing him with liquid fire.

“Merlin,” he whispered, taking her mouth again.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. “Touch me. Let me touch you.”

His hands couldn’t fight anymore, not even if his brain were still in charge. He released her, and she kept her eyes on his while she resumed her exploration, sliding fingers down his throat, snake-like, leaving the obstacle of a button behind and working her way under the fabric of his shirt, finding a nipple, extracting a reaction from him.

He buried his nose in the back of her ear, making room for his mouth, nibbling at her throat. He felt the rest of his buttons being opened and brought his hands up, traveling the sides of her upper body, finally. She pulled his jacket and shirt aside and tasted the skin they’d been hiding. His muscles tensed delightfully before melting under her lips and tongue, his breathing speeding with his heartbeat.

He needed to know how he tasted in her mouth, struggling to get her tongue to meet his again, pushing her lower body closer and finding more heat. His desire was to bring her in, meld their skin. He was sure she’d felt how ready he was to be in her when she undulated her body, making him gasp.

“Yes,” she agreed, struggling with her dress, throwing it away, somewhere. He didn’t have the time to remove her bra and expose her breasts for her before she’d done it herself, but he held her hands in time to keep her from doing the same with the rest of their clothes. She moaned in protest, rocking against him again, harder.

“Slow down,” he hissed, breathing once, twice, and on the third time he rolled them over, ending on top of her. The feeling of her underneath his body wearing nothing but a strip of fabric was powerful. He could hear her breathing—uneven. There was something about the muffled sound—blood, his heartbeat. Her eyes were life... her eyes. He wanted her more than anything, and at the same time…. Time was nonexistent, unconscious, subconscious—he could see decades, years, months, days, right now. Severus couldn’t move.

There was a hand on his face— _so warm_. Hermione’s eyes— _so intent_ —warming his heart.

“Feel it,” she told him.

She caressed his face— _so soft_. Hermione’s eyes— _so full_ —hugging his soul.

“Can you feel it? Show me what you feel,” she whispered.

Severus watched her eyes close under the pressure of his gentle kiss. His lips traveled lightly to the skin below them. A kiss on the tip of her nose, a nose touching her ear and then travelling down the length of her neck, inhaling. He savored her scent.

He fed on the warmer, softer skin of her neck, biting and kissing. A tentative finger touched first the moist spot his mouth had left, and soon other fingers joined the first, sliding down to map the curve that molded her heart, possessively gripping the flesh around it.

“Yes,” she said in acceptance, caressing his head.

He proceeded to show his feelings by mapping her chest, belly, navel, where his lips followed in worship. He placed a trembling kiss bellow her navel in gratitude for the gift it had produced.

When he thought of looking up and asking for another undeserved gift, Severus saw a silent tear fall from her eyes, and his heart sank with dread.

“No, Hermione.” He held her in his arms, cradling her head to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered over and over.

“Severus.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I love you, too.” She pulled away to look him in the eyes. “I love you so, so much. You’re so beautiful. I… I never thought I’d feel so much; need so strongly. I need you to make me whole. I need to be more, to be one with you. Complete me, Severus. Make love to me, please.”

Severus felt his throat constrict, his mind relax its grip on memory, and his feelings take over. He needed her as well, more than anything in the world—more than air, more than sun, more than water—she was everything; she _was_ him; they were parts of a whole. Yes, he needed to be one with her.

He kissed her deeply. He pushed whatever clothing was in the way aside, in haste, but when it was time, he entered her with restraint, slowly, watching for her reactions carefully, ready to respond to her needs. He reveled in the pleasure on her face, head thrown back briefly, then eyes back on his, awaiting his next move. He withdrew just as slowly, somewhere in his mind still afraid she would push him out of her in disgust. She moaned, undulating her pelvis to take him back in. He gave a trembling sigh, grasping the sheets and holding himself pressed against her, never wanting to leave again. She hummed, contracting and hugging, accepting his desire.

He moved again, and again, gaining rhythm, which she matched, as their bodies rocked. His eyes travelled from her bouncing breasts to her parted lips, her breath coming out in little gasps, and he delved in to kiss her, never losing the maddening rhythm, only increasing its pace.

She pulled her legs around him, urging him deeper. He slipped his lips lower, holding a rocking nipple.

“Fuck!”

The sound of her voice almost made him lose his concentration, making him trust too quickly, but he recovered the rhythm, releasing her nipple in favor of watching her face. She was whimpering now. He pulled a leg up to the crook of his arm, changing the angle, and was rewarded by her trembling cry. His own pleasure was building in exquisite torture, forcing his nose to flare with the exertion.

All he wanted was to make her explode in pleasure, to make this night memorable, to make up to her, now, for that night more than twelve years before. Severus watched her body arch, felt the trembling, and then she was gone, singing her pleasure with such intensity that he almost joined her.

He slowed his efforts, feeling her body still reacting to his. He waited to please her again; he wanted to make this entire night about her. Severus was sweating, gasping when she held him tighter. He opened his eyes and looked down at where they joined, and then at her face. She was watching him with hooded eyes, lips parted, hands lazily around his arms. He dove forward for a wet kiss, and her hand tangled in his hair, demanding. It was difficult to keep control, to slow down. Her mouth escaped his to utter a cry when he changed the angle of his strokes again. He wanted to feel her pleasure again before letting himself go.

“Severus,” she gasped. “Severus.”

Her call worked its magic, like a siren’s, and he growled, giving up—giving in—almost letting his weight fall over her with the force of the pleasure he felt. He managed to roll over to the side, careful not to go too far away, panting shallowly, feeling aftershocks of the intense moment.

He wasn’t sure if he was already dreaming when he heard her voice saying, “Stay the night.” Severus only hummed and pulled her to him, shutting down his brain completely.

~o0oOo0o~

She opened her eyes to meet Severus’ and smiled contently. She pushed his messy hair away and kissed him. “Good morning.”

His hand came to caress her hair and then drift down the contour of her breast, resting on her belly, awakening her skin and making her shiver. “It’s not morning, yet.”

“Hmm.” She contorted and stretched her naked body to send the numbness of sleep away.

He was smiling at her, really smiling. It brought a new perspective to his face, one she couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t serenity, like when she’d wakened him from sleeping on the couch with Nathan in his arms, although it had something of that. It could be a lightness of spirit, although she wasn’t a fool to believe the weight of their pasts wasn’t still there, lingering. It wasn’t beauty, but it was absolutely beautiful.

His fingers were lightly circling her bellybutton, distracting her from her musings. It tickled. She squirmed closer to avoid the tickling, only to find his body wanting hers.

His mysterious smile was slowly replaced by an intensity she knew exactly how to respond to. She brought a leg over his, sliding her foot up until his legs ended, pushing him to her.

“It’s not morning yet, you say?”

His lips were on hers as he rolled them so he was on top of her once more. Her need, her desperation for a repeat of the wonderful sensations only he could bring, made her eager. She helped him get in position to please her, and luckily he slid home right away, making her moan in his mouth.

“Merlin, Hermione,” he gasped.

It felt so good when he completed her. “Take me.” She moved under him, urging him to do the same, to make her feel his love. He was so good all over her.

“Goddess,” he panted, gaining momentum, stirring the most delightful sensations.

“Faster,” she asked, moaning louder when he obeyed. The pleasure built exquisitely, and something inside her couldn’t hold anymore, turning everything into pleasure and making Hermione momently lose sight of his expressive face.

She felt him moving very slowly when her senses were recovered. His face had also changed, showing now his concentration, something so familiar. She pulled him to her, pressing the heels of her feet into his flesh and hugging him from the inside. She liked the strangled sound he made. She liked that this was her love for him. He was looking into her eyes, as if waiting for something—she didn’t quite know what it was, but she desperately wanted him to have it.

“Fuck me, Severus.”

He moaned again, pulling out and then pushing fast and hard back in. His head fell to the side of hers on the pillow: his hand gripped her thighs firmly. “Yes!” she hissed in his ear. He repeated the move, again and again, pounding faster and faster into her, taking her mind, heart, and breath away. “Fuck!” she cried, coming undone once more, feeling him join her this time.

“That,” she panted, desperate for air, “was wonderful.”

He rolled to the side, pulling her with him. “I couldn’t agree more,” he panted back.

Their breathing eventually calmed, and then deepened when they drifted back to sleep in each other’s arms, body and heart once again sated.

~o0oOo0o~

The sound of metal on china made Severus open his eyes. Hermione was observing him, smiling adoringly from the foot of the bed, holding a cup of what his nose told him was tea.

“Tea?” she offered, confirming his assessment.

Another assessment Severus made was that he lay naked in her bed while she stood covered by a nightgown. He felt self-conscious and uncomfortable. This was the first time he’d spent the night in a woman’s bed.

He cleared his throat. “Clothes first, perhaps?”

The quality of her smile changed while she quickly transfigured something into a black nightshirt. She held it out to him from where she stood, far enough to make him leave the cover of the sheets to get to her.

He raised an eyebrow.

She snorted, clicked her tongue, but relented, bringing the nightshirt to him. “Spoil sport.” She kissed him on the mouth, leaving the bedroom to give him some privacy. He joined her at the table, where a tray sat carrying breakfast.

“I had plans to keep you in bed,” she explained, making him blush.

“We would be missed in the castle.” Severus had never stayed for a meal or chit-chat with any woman he’d had sex with. He knew this was different, that Hermione wasn’t just any woman, and that he wanted to share a bed with her again and again and again, until his days were over. Severus just didn’t know how to act, what to say.

It took him a while to realize she was silent as well, sipping her tea and observing him.

“You don’t have to stay.”

“I’m just saying that people will notice we’re not there.” He took a cup and started preparing his tea.

“What if they do?”

“Hermione, they’ll jump—”

“What if they do? Why do you care?” she interrupted him, placing her cup into the table with more force than necessary, making it rattle noisily. “We _are_ together. We spent the night loving each other. Why do you care if people know about it?”

Severus sighed and then cursed himself for sipping his tea before having added the sugar.

“Summer is approaching,” she continued in a calmer voice. “The term is almost over. How do you intend to hide the fact that we’re together from Nathan when he’s back living here?”

“This is not about him,” he answered annoyed.

“I don’t get it.” She shook her head, visibly disappointed.

“It’s not about you, either. Hermione… I just can’t, not yet. They’ll be judging me, and you, and I’m not…” He sighed and untangled her hands from the grip she had on her nightgown, taking them in his, looking her in the eyes. “I’ve never done this before. You’re the first woman I’ve ever wakened up with. The first I don’t want to leave as soon as the sex is over. I’m trying to find out how to do this with you.”

She released her lower lip from the abuse of her teeth.

“I won’t lie to my son.”

Severus nodded. He didn’t want to lie to Nathan, either. “If he asks, we won’t deny.”

“Severus—”

“I don’t want anyone in,” he told her before she could rant.

“But Nathan—”

“I know, I know. He’s our son; he’s already in. I’m talking about others, Minerva, Potter, the students.”

“It’s selfish,” she complained, but seemed somehow mollified.

“I’m selfish,” he agreed. “I want you all for myself, for as long as possible.” He pulled her into a kiss.

“Until summer break,” she conceded.

~o0oOo0o~

“Mum, will you continue this research when the term is over?”

Hermione counted the last two stirs. “If Minerva permits, yes. Why do you ask?”

“I’m just wondering… Do you think Headmistress McGonagall will allow you to continue?”

“Yes, I don’t see why she wouldn’t.” Nathan watched her extinguish the flames under the cauldron. “It’ll take at least an hour to cool. Do you want to grab something to eat?”

“All right.”

What Nathan really wanted was something that told him what would happen when classes were over. He couldn’t find anything specific to his case in _Hogwarts, a History_. The prefects didn’t seem to know anything about what the adults in the castle did during summer break. He almost asked Professor Lupin about it, but then remembered he had a wife, that she lived outside the castle, and that he constantly visited her on weekends, meaning they had a home elsewhere and would be living there full time when the term ended.

Nathan might as well be the only child of a professor in the history of Hogwarts whose mother was not married to the father.

“Sandwiches?” He nodded. “What do you want to drink?”

“Pumpkin juice.”

He took the seat in front of his father’s desk in the office, as usual. His mother joined him there to wait for the house-elves.

“Where’s Dad?”

“I don’t know. He might be in his quarters, or perhaps he’s patrolling the corridors.”

Nathan nodded. He didn’t know why, but with the end of term approaching, he felt the need to be with his dad more often than not.

“Do you want to go find him? Or maybe go spend some time with your friends in the common room? I’ve told you many times that this is not your research. You don’t have to be here every time I’m working on the potion.”

“I like working in the lab.” He used his brightest smile to convey the happiness he usually felt when they spend the afternoon working together. His happiness would be more genuine if he could do both: work in the lab and stay with his dad. “Dad sometimes joins us, and I was wondering where he is today.”

“You’ve been wondering about a lot of things lately. Is there something worrying you? Or upsetting you?”

_Bloody hell!_ His mother was too perceptive sometimes.

“No!” he was quick to answer. “Not at all!”

He could see from the lines on his mother’s forehead that he hadn’t convinced her, but Nathan didn’t want her mother’s attention and worry.

“What is it? Is it something you did or is it something you’re planning to do?”

“Neither! You worry too much.”

“You always say that and then end up in the Hospital Wing or in detention.”

A house-elf popped in with a tray, saving Nathan from finding an answer to that. They ate in silence, with his mother’s eyes trying to dissect Nathan alive.

“What are the plans for summer?” he asked, then. Maybe he could distract her _and_ find something out at the same time. “Are we visiting Grandpa and Grandma?”

“Yes, of course. They’re dying to see you. I’m sure they’re filling you with questions about what you want to do when we visit them, aren’t they?”

“They want to come with us to Diagon Alley. Are they allowed in there?”

“They were there with me several times in the past. It could be a great idea to take them there again.” His mother smiled. The distraction was working very well.

“Maybe Dad would come with us, too.”

“We could ask him.”

“Do you think he’ll be busy when classes are over?”

“I don’t know. He might want to take the extra time to research or attend a conference.”

“Are there conferences this summer?”

“Not for me. We could spend some time on the beach, what do you think?”

“I’d like that.” Nathan liked the beach, but he would like it even more if his dad would go with them. “Do you think Dad would come and visit us in London for a while? Maybe he likes the beach, too.”

“You’ll see your dad during summer break. You don’t have to worry about it, all right?”

“All right.” At least he could be certain of that, now.

“When did he say the insignias would be ready?” his mother asked, changing the subject.

“Next weekend. He said they needed to be exposed to the fumes of the potion for at least a week.”

“Is there a ritual of some kind that we should be preparing ourselves for?”

“I’m not sure. The books didn’t say anything about new insignias, only about existing ones, and those are passed to the heirs when they turn twelve. There’s a ritual for that, where the head of the family recite vows and stuff. But the books were clear to say that the ritual was more tradition than anything essential.”

His mother hummed, thoughtful. “Remind me to ask your father about it.”

Nathan agreed, and their conversation went in other directions, taking his mind off the future of his new family.

~o0oOo0o~

“Nathan is worried about summer.”

They were lying in bed, Severus caressing the skin under her breasts.

“And what is worrying you?”

“I’m worried things will change when Nathan is back living here, that you’ll find reasons to be very busy every time we ask you to visit.”

“I won’t disappear,” he assured, kissing the back of her shoulder. “I have nowhere else I’d like to be. I thought you knew that.”

She turned to face him. “Come stay with us, then. Nathan would be thrilled.”

“Nathan would?” He smirked.

“I would, too.” She kissed the smugness off his face. “We’re together almost every night, in any case. I’d miss you terribly if I had to go a whole week without you, never mind the whole of summer break.”

“I won’t be going anywhere.” He said that looking straight into her eyes, and then pushing her hair from her face, kissed her deeply and thoroughly.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan had spent the last day of term with his father, refusing to leave the man’s company before it was time. When questioned, he’d told his father that his trunk was packed, that his friends knew he was with him and they would meet at the Feast, from which they would depart for the common room and, in the morning, for the Hogwarts Express.

“Will you be in Hogsmeade when the train takes off?”

“No, I have my own obligations here in the castle.”

“I see…”

“We should be heading to the Great Hall.”

That was it. Nathan’s first year was about to end. He should be jumping up and down with happiness, like his friends were, but he actually felt too heavy to jump.

“But first, we should pin this to your robes.”

Nathan watched his father pin the new Granger-Snape insignia to his robes, chanting something in Latin. The symbol of their newborn family glowed in white, casting shadows on the angles of his father’s face. Nathan was sure his smile was as shiny as the light from the enchantment.

“It looks perfect on you,” his father commented.

“Where’s yours?”

“I need someone to do the chanting before I can wear mine.”

“I can do it!” Nathan offered.

“Your magic is not mature enough for this kind of enchantment. We’ll ask your mother when we next see her.”

“When will that be?”

“Not now. We can’t be late for the Leaving Feast, and there’s something else we have to do before that.”

The wizard didn’t give Nathan any time to figure out what that was all about. They walked fast through the dungeon corridors, but came to an unexpected stop before reaching the Great Hall. Nathan frowned in confusion. They were standing in front of the House’s hourglasses.

“Why did we stop here?” Nathan asked.

For a moment, it didn’t seem an answer would be forthcoming, and then Severus brought his face closer to Nathan’s ear and said in a voice only he could hear, “Fifty points to Gryffindor.”

They watched the rubies fall into the hourglass—Nathan with his mouth agape, Severus with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Nathan turned to his father, wide-eyed. “You awarded me House points.” He was still shocked.

“I’ll deny if anyone asks me.” The smirk was still there, and the eyes danced with amusement.

“What are the points for?”

His father’s features became very serious, then. “For being the best first-year I’ve taught since your mother was a student here.”

Butterflies danced on Nathan’s stomach and chest, and he felt a tingle behind his eyes. He bit on his lower lip, holding himself very still or else he’d start crying like a baby. All the recognition he’d hoped he’d get… He’d waited all year for this moment. Nathan blinked, and a tear escaped his control and fell. A warm hand brushed it away for him.

“Thank you,” Nathan whispered.

“No, thank _you_ , Son.”

~o0oOo0o~

The fifty points his father had awarded him at the last minute hadn’t been enough to bring Gryffindor the House Cup, but Nathan didn’t mind. He felt elated and proud of himself for achieving what he’d told his mum he would: be the best student Hogwarts had seen in years. Well, at least in its strictest professor’s eyes.

Now, staring up at the red canopy of his bed, Nathan toyed with the insignia—the metal still warm from the charge of magic—and thought about how much he would miss his dad during summer.

How wonderful it would be if his dad could live with him. There was so much he wanted to show him, things of his home-life, his books, games, favorite places… He wanted to introduce his dad to Jeremy, play football with the boy and his dad, like they used to, only now Nathan’s mind added his own dad with them, playing too.

That image made Nathan giggle. It was hard to imagine his father doing something as trivial as kick a football. Did he even like these Muggle things? Did he like the movies, for instance? Nathan had never asked. They could go together to the movies, if his father lived with him. They could visit the park across the block, watch the birds, play catch.

They were the things Nathan had always imagined he would do when he finally met his dad.

It all seemed silly now.

Reality was very different from his daydreams of the past. He didn’t even know when he would next see his dad, and it anguished Nathan. Reason told him that he would be seeing his dad some time during the summer vacation, but his heart ached nonetheless. This was not how Nathan wanted things to be. He wanted to be able to be with his dad whenever he missed him.

Real life was a bummer.

In the morning, Nathan would leave with the Hogwarts Express, and Merlin only knew when he would see his dad again.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione waited until the train came to a full stop on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. She was anxious to take her little boy home with her. Spending time with him at Hogwarts wasn’t the same, regardless of what others would say. She was looking forward to Nathan filling the apartment with noise and life.

Lately, Severus had been playing this role, but Hermione was one greedy witch; she wanted both Nathan and Severus making her life vibrant with energy and joy.

The platform was inundating with happy children, now. She searched the crowd for _her_ happy child, but when she spotted Nathan, he wasn’t one of the sparkling boys. She met him halfway, wearing her happiness proudly on her face, and got a smile in return.

“Welcome home, dear.” Hermione hugged him tight, kissing the top of his head.

“Thanks, Mum. Would you make my trunk lighter, please? It’s crap not being allowed to use magic.”

“Language,” Hermione reprehended, suppressing a sigh while she performed the requested spell.

“Sorry.”

_Unhappy and moody,_ Hermione surmised. They started the slow exit to Muggle London.

“Jeremy has been asking when you would be home. I believe he has some new video game he wants desperately to share with you.”

_Another smile. Good._ All the moodiness must be part of a boy becoming a teenager, unfortunately.

“You know, we should spend a strictly Muggle week. What do you think? Visit parks, go to the movie, maybe invite the Gibsons to watch a football match…”

“Sounds great, Mum.”

Somehow, this last suggestion had made Nathan lose the little joy he’d shown so far.

She called a cab and tolerated the silent ride home with patience.

~o0oOo0o~

His mother hadn’t mentioned his father, not once. Maybe Nathan had been wrong all along. Maybe the hope he’d been harboring of their parents being together, dating had been only that: wishful thinking. His parents only probably met or spent time together in the castle. He would be lucky if he got to see his dad at all before classes re-started.

“Tired?” his mum asked. “We’re almost home.”

He forced a smile for her sake. Nathan knew his mother was only trying to cheer him up. When the cab stopped, Nathan looked at the building he’d lived in for as long as he could remember and tried again to feel more happiness than sadness for coming home. He’d always liked living here with his mum, near all his friends. Now, though, his friends were not all here and his family was incomplete. Just living with his mum wasn’t enough for him anymore.

He pulled at the handle of his trunk, and it didn’t move.

“I had to lift the spell or else the cab driver would notice. Here.” She re-applied the spell that made his trunk lighter, smiling.

“Thanks.”

They took off up the stairs, Nathan thinking about who he left behind at Hogwarts. He unconsciously rubbed the insignia on his shirt while Hermione unlocked the door for them. Nathan pulled his trunk to the middle of the living room.

“Right in time for tea.”

The trunk hit the floor with a loud thud at that voice.

“Dad!”

Nathan didn’t mind if he’d seen the man the day before, he ran and threw his arms around him, hugging hard.

“Didn’t you tell him?” he heard his father ask.

“I thought better of it and decided Nathan would like the surprise,” his mother answered and came to stand next to them. “Thank you for brewing my favorite tea.” She then stood on tiptoes and kissed his father on the lips.

“I knew it!” Nathan said excited. “You _are_ dating!”

His father groaned, and his mother said, “I told you he knew already.”

“Gryffindors…”

That made his mother laugh. Nathan joined her in laugher.

This was the best day of his life, and he was ready to make of this the first of many to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** That’s it, folks! This is my promised happy ending for Nathan, Hermione and Severus. :0D 
> 
> **Coming next…** The Epilogue™


	37. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathan and Trelawney take a look into the future of the Granger-Snape family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **DISCLAIMER:** Not mine! It's all J. K. Rowling's.  
>  **BETA READER:** Annie Talbot – thank you very much!

The meeting with the other teachers had long ended, and yet his father was still in the headmistress' office. They should have taken off for Hogsmeade by now, but Headmistress McGonagall seemed to be having a hard time letting his father go. Didn't she remember it was still summer vacation? Term didn't start until next month!

It wasn't only the boredom of waiting that was making Nathan uneasy. He'd been feeling an odd sensation that seemed to be increasing in intensity, and he didn't know what to make of it. It felt like he shouldn't be there, that he was expected somewhere else.

He fidgeted.

Maybe a walk would make the feeling go away. Nathan sent a last look to the door between the gargoyles and started down the corridor with no destination in mind. What he didn't know was that his feet were very deliberately taking him somewhere. A light coming out of a door left ajar could have alerted him to his feet's purpose.

Unable to resist, Nathan pushed the door open and peered in. On a table sat a big crystal ball, shedding a bluish light.

As if in a hypnotic trance, Nathan was caught by the light and brought to stare at the swirling insides of the crystal globe.

"We've been waiting for you."

Nathan continued to stare at the sphere of light.

"The future wants to be unfolded for you."

"My future?" Nathan asked.

"Place your hand on the crystal ball."

Nathan did so. An adult's hand came to rest over his. He looked away from the ball and found it was Professor Trelawney's hand.

"What do you see?" she asked.

He focused on the swirling light behind the glass, searching. Three smears of light became gradually more defined, and bodies began to take shape. In another couple of seconds, Nathan could recognize his friends Kevin and Andy in Quidditch gear, and the third figure was… It was himself, also in full Quidditch gear, broom in hand. They were celebrating, he realized.

"I'm on the Quidditch team?" he said out loud, and the moment he did so, the scene dissolved.

When Nathan made to take his hand off the crystal ball, Trelawney`s wouldn't let him.

"What else do you see?" she asked, and as if by command, another scene started to form on the inside of the glowing sphere.

The figure of a girl started to form, gaining color as well as shape. Her hair was cooper, her body was lean, but a darker figure appeared besides her, making she look shorter than she probably was. The features of the second form started to get more defined, and Nathan was shocked to realize it was an older version of himself. He looked neat with longer hair. The girl approached and kissed him on the mouth.

"There's a girl kissing me," he voiced, shocked. Again, the scene seemed to dissolve with the spoken words.

"There's more. Look at it."

A white spot of light started to grow inside the crystal ball. It was, again, taking the form of someone. The figure was laughing, Nathan realized, and beside him, one arm on his shoulder, was another figure, another older version of himself. They seemed old enough to be one of the seventh-years, and they were laughing together. Looking closer at the blond lad, Nathan recognized him.

"I'm friends with Malfoy?!" The disturbing vision dissolved with the admission.

"Is there more?"

Many heads and then bodies started to become visible. The crowd was looking attentively at a figure in a higher position, a dais of sort. It wasn't Hogwarts, and the figure forming wasn't either his father or his mother. The man was younger than his parents, although Nathan was tempted to say it looked a lot like his father. Could this be a vision of the past? Nathan looked more closely as the crowd applauded the young man, and when the man smiled he realized it was himself. That took him by surprise. Lights flashed as an important-looking man shook his hand.

"I'm pretty important and famous," he said, admitting to what the images were showing him, and like the others, it dissolved.

"Do you see anything else?"

Nathan looked intently inside the ball again, hoping there would be more about his fame. The light re-arranged and lazily formed the figure of a man, and then another figure joined the first. This time, Nathan had no doubt the second man was his father, and in his arms there was a baby. His mother joined the scene, and Nathan felt an overwhelming urge to be with that baby.

"There's a baby in my father's arms," he answered the woman. Again, the vision dissolved, and Nathan felt a pang of loss he couldn't quite understand.

"Release my son right this moment."

Nathan blinked at the voice of his father, disconnecting himself from the glowing sphere. He took a few steps back from the magical object, and soon felt his father's hands, pushing Nathan behind him and placing himself between him and Trelawney.

"The next time I catch you using my son as a guinea pig, I won't remember we're colleagues in this school," he threatened her.

"The future wanted to be disclosed to him. The Inner Eye has—"

"Bullshit!" His father pointed a finger at the woman, which made her retreat in fear. "Stay away from us!"

Nathan was dragged out of the room and down the corridor.

"Do not get yourself alone with that lunatic, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Dad."

Sighing, the man asked, "What was happening in there? Was she hurting you?"

"I'm not sure," Nathan answered after some hesitation. "I felt the sphere calling me… I looked inside and I might have been watching my future, I don't know. I saw you, and Mum, and myself, only older. There was a baby…" The feelings associated with that specific vision were still clearly gripping Nathan. "You were holding the baby."

"I never hold babies, which proves that what you saw wasn't anything but another cheap invention of that fraud."

It hadn't felt so, but Nathan could sense when not to argue with his dad.

They moved quickly into Hogsmeade, where they were to visit the apothecary and then meet his mother for lunch. Nathan tried to leave the strange happenings behind and enjoy the day.

~o0oOo0o~

Nathan was getting ready for bed. It had been a long day, and he felt exhausted. It might have something to do with the crystal ball incident—it had drained him.

His mother appeared at the doorway of his bedroom when he'd just settled in bed.

"All right, there?"

"Yes."

She came into the room and approached his bed, visibly unconvinced by his affirmative. She placed a hand on his forehead, but of course he wasn't overly hot. There was nothing physically wrong with him, except for the exhaustion.

"Your father told me about the episode with Trelawney. He said there was a great amount of magic involved. Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"I'm fine. I'm just tired, I guess."

She sat on the mattress and pushed his hair away from his eyes.

"You need a haircut."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "I've already told you that I'm growing my hair."

"All right, you stubborn boy." She said that and remained sitting there, watching him. "Are you sure you're only tired? Because you were awfully quiet all day today."

At his mother's words, the pang was back into Nathan's chest. A sadness he couldn't define the origin of took hold of him, and he felt like crying.

"In one of the visions in the crystal ball, I saw Dad holding a baby," he told her, hoping she would be able to explain why these feelings were assaulting him. "You were there, too, and it made me happy and sad at the same time."

"Oh, honey. Why is it making you sad?"

"I don't know."

"It was only a vision, and if I know Trelawney well, it's not even legitimate. Don't let it get to you, okay? I hate to see you sad."

"I'll hex Trelawney next time I see her." Nathan hadn't noticed that his dad had been listening to the conversation from the doorway. He was now approaching the bed, too.

"It's not going away, is it?" his mother asked, and Nathan shook his head.

"All right, so what do we do about it?" she enquired with a hand resting on his chest.

Nathan closed his eyes and tried to reason his feelings and thoughts. "You like each other, don't you?" he asked his parents.

"We do," his mother answered for both of them.

"If you like him, and he likes you back, why didn't you stay together when I was born?"

"It wasn't as simple as that." His mother's hand made circles on his chest. "Your father and I… We were just leaving a war behind us."

"I didn't have a place for a family in my life back then. Your mother made the right decision when she took you away," his father chimed in.

"I wish she hadn't," Nathan insisted, still unsure of why it was so important to make them understand. But it seemed it wouldn't be an easy task; his father was shaking his head in disagreement.

"You wouldn't if you had met me then. Take my word for it, Son, I'd have made you both miserable if she had stayed," he argued.

Nathan had held his tears as hard as he could, but the overwhelming feelings were too strong.

"But why? Don't you love us?"

"I love you like I never thought I'd love anyone," his father confessed with all sincerity in his eyes. "I wouldn't have known this, twelve years ago," he completed. He looked at his mother; she was shedding silent tears, too. "Your mother knew that."

"I missed you," Nathan continued. "I watched all my friends with their dads, and I had only Mum. It wasn't fair."

"No, it wasn't," his mother agreed. "I'm very sorry for that."

"You could have at least told me he existed." He lapsed into the old argument, his voice wet with tears.

She bent and kissed his forehead.

"Shhh. No more crying about it," she whispered against his skin. "It's the past, now. Shhhh."

Severus sat on his other side on the bed. "I'm here, now." Nathan threw himself into his father's arms. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Hermione came behind Nathan and hugged them both. "We're all here, and if it's love keeping us together, then we'll be like this for as long as I live."

~ THE END ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank from the bottom of my heart every single person who has got this far and finished reading this story. It's been to me a long and fulfilling journey to write and share these words with all of you.
> 
> Nathan, Severus, and Hermione were living entities in my mind for more than seven years, and I'll miss them very much now that I won't be writing about them every day. Nathan, in particular, will always be my baby, even if I had to give him to Hermione. ~lol~
> 
> Also part of this journey were all the reviewers, cheerleaders, archive mods, and of course, my beta-readers. I had the luck to have the help of wonderful ladies such as SnarkyRoxy, Poultrygeist, GinnyW, Indigofeathers, Annie Talbot, and the Snapetes. Thank you so very much! I could not have done this without you.
> 
> ~hugs~  
> Fer

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Blue Blanket](https://archiveofourown.org/works/384228) by [ferporcel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferporcel/pseuds/ferporcel)
  * [Past Revisited](https://archiveofourown.org/works/548547) by [ferporcel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferporcel/pseuds/ferporcel)




End file.
